


Journey of a Butterfly

by L8Bleumr



Category: Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-24
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-02 11:26:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 72
Words: 291,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/368474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L8Bleumr/pseuds/L8Bleumr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With her parents dead and her brother missing, a young Rohirrim girl sets out on a journey of a lifetime. She must face tragedy and wrongful accusations or become just another statistic. An encounter with an elf uncovers a world that she longs for, but the path that leads her there is full of challenges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Memories

**Author's Note:**

> This story is made up of my original characters and is A/U. It begins in Rohan during the Ring War and goes through to the Fourth Age in Ithilien. Legolas, Thranduil and Eomer will make special appearances, but are not main characters.

Terrwyn lay next to this elf, studying every inch of him. The look of his body was nothing like the browned and muscular bodies of the Rohirrim men. No, Feredir (Fair-eh-dear) was broad and lean. His skin was fair. His long black waist length hair was sleek and soft. Yet she knew of his hidden strength. Where the Rohirrim looked strong and intimidating, elves seemed fragile. Nothing could be further from the truth. She had felt that strength last night as he held her by the waist, suspended above the bed, pounding repeatedly into her willing body. He made her feel weightless, as if she defied gravity. He was gentle with her, considerate of her needs and wants. He paid close attention to her body’s movements and answered its demands for satisfaction. He lived and breathed for her in that moment, to please her to the fullest not caring if he found his own release. This was yet another difference among her human kin. She had received more than enough stares from certain men. It made her feel dirty, as if they only wanted to use her. They only saw her as a receptacle for their own pleasure and fantasies. They would not have cared if they pleased her. Maybe this was partly why she never cared much for human men.

She studied the fair smooth skin of Feredir’s upper body. Small scars adorned his perfect skin, traveling down his side. They were evidence of past battles left by the weapons of his enemies, scars of his wounds that would never completely disappear. Some were straight. Some were curved here and there. It almost looked like artwork, but she knew this was only the work of his foes. Still, the raised white scars were as a rite of passage to him. He had proven that he was a warrior through and through. He always seemed to need to prove it more than the other’s. Oh, how she longed to see him in action. She felt her excitement as she thought about his muscled arms holding his bow, arrow notched and ready to kill, back straight, hair blowing out behind him, complete concentration on his countenance. He would never allow it, but to watch him fight would have been worth the risk. He was just that enticing.

Lost in thought, Terrwyn traced over his body with her finger. She started at his shoulder, traveled down his side and over his rippled abs to his hip and down his pelvis. Something caught her attention as she lightly caressed the smooth skin of his body, a pulsing movement beneath the white silky sheet. She smiled and watched his still face.

“You are not asleep,” she said softly.

His eyes remained closed but the corner of his mouth upturned into a smile. “I cannot sleep when you touch me like this.”

“I am sorry. I did not mean to disturb you.”

He rolled onto his side so he could look into her green eyes. “You could never disturb me.” He brought his lips to hers, brushing them ever so lightly against her softness. 

She touched one of the longer curved scars on his side. “Did it hurt . . . when they did this to you, when the enemy attacked you?”

“It was . . . uncomfortable,” he answered smugly.

Terrwyn smiled and rolled onto her back. “You would never admit to any pain.”

“Only to the pain I feel when I am not deep inside you,” he said wantonly. Feredir threw the sheet from his body and rolled on top of her. He settled between her spread legs and plunged into her depths.

Terrwyn woke from her dream for that was all this was. Feredir was not here now and she was alone once more. Tears streaked her face. What would she do without him? Where would she go? He was her world now and the only life she ever wanted.

Now that she was wide awake, she thought about how it all started, this love of the elves, but it did not start with Feredir as one might think. No, her infatuation started when she was much younger, only a child. She had heard many tales of the elves of long ago. They seemed like a dream to her and their heritage peaked her curiosity. Terrwyn never thought she would meet an elf for they seemed so aloof, unattainable. Then the day came when she met her first elf. He made such an impression on her that day that it changed her life forever.

This is her story . . .

* * *

Terrwyn was a young woman of Rohan. Her frame was tall and slender. Her hair was like most of her mother’s family, reddish blonde with a slight waviness, and it hung half way down her back. Being raised out in the open plains, one might think her skin was a golden tan, but she was quite fair for a Rohirric. She loved the sun, though, and the sound of the wind blowing across the dry grass and the sound of leaves rustling in the trees. It was instilled in her. It was a part of her that would never change.

She was born and raised in the Westfold. It was hard life living in the dry grasslands but her family gave her the best life they could with what they had. The times were changing lately. There was an imposing darkness spreading through the land that put everyone on edge. Being just a child though, she did not think much of it. To her, every day was an adventure and a blessing.

Her father, Hathred, a tall muscular man with golden sun-bleached hair, was a soldier and was away very often. He helped to protect their land, what little land they had left since the Wildsmen began plundering it. When he was home though, he was with his family who he loved very much. He gave them all the attention he could for it would not be long before he was gone again.

Her mother, Larrwyn, was beautiful and tall with red hair, tan skin and green eyes. She worked hard to keep food on the table while her husband was away, washing uniforms and such for the soldiers. It paid little, but enough until her husband returned with his reward for serving the Rohirrim.

Terrwyn also had a brother, Hathmund, with golden hair like their father’s. He was three years her elder and very protective of his little sister. Even at such a young age, he already planned to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a soldier.

Even though life was hard, it was good and they were all very close to one another. Everything went smoothly because they had each other. However, that would soon change and when Terrwyn was six years old, her father perished during an attack by the Wildsmen. She would never see her father again after that and none would have time to grieve. Their village was under siege and they had to flee from their home. War was coming to their lands and they would not be safe. So their mother took what few mementoes she had and her two children and headed for the safety of Helm’s Deep.

Most who remember that time were terrified, but not Terrwyn. Maybe it was because she was so young it did not register with her the way it did with older children and adults. Her mother did a good job of making it seem like a game, while at the same time hiding her grief for her deceased husband. Hathmund took his father’s death very hard and seemed to close himself off to the world swearing revenge one day.

To Terrwyn, their stay at Helm’s Deep was exciting. There were many people from all over the Riddermark. She never knew that so many people resided in these parts. She met many children her own age and made some new friends. All was well until the war came. They were sent along with the other women and children into the caves where they would be safe and out of harm’s way. It was a terrifying night to say the least. The sounds of war outside were like never ending thunder. It was quiet in the caves except for crying children. Terrwyn did not cry. She only huddled close to her mother and Hathmund, sometimes sleeping, sometimes listening.

And then it was over. The war was won and evil swept away. The people emerged from the caves to find the Deep extremely damaged but still standing. They would stay here until word came from the King of Rohan that it was safe to return to their homes. That was when reality set in and their mother fell into despair over the death of Hathred. She did not eat or sleep. She did not talk or smile. Larrwyn completely cut herself off from life around her and the children had to fend for themselves. Hathmund, being the older sibling, started to take care of Terrwyn. He made sure she had food and played games with her.

A few days later, the children were wandering around the Hornburg when they heard someone singing. It was odd and out of place at a time like this, but they followed the voice and found that it belonged to someone they never expected to meet. It was an elf. He was sitting on the steps that led up to a breezeway, looking up to the sky and singing. Hathmund looked at him curiously, but this unusual being mesmerized Terrwyn. She never met an elf, though she had heard tales of them. There was something very striking about this one though. His skin was so fair that he seemed to glow. He had long chestnut hair, straight and braided back at the sides so that his pointed ears were very visible. Terrwyn gasped. He was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen and she found she could not look away. Hathmund tugged on her arm.

“It’s not polite to stare sissy,” he whispered.

“I’m not staring,” Terrwyn protested. “I’m only looking.”

Suddenly the elf turned his head towards the children and smiled. “Aren’t staring and looking considered the same thing?” he said in a sultry voice that could only come from an elf. Hathmund looked on with embarrassment, but Terrwyn’s mouth hung agape.

“Careful or you’ll catch a fly in your throat,” the elf said rather cheerfully.

The children looked at each other and Terrwyn closed her mouth tight, even covering it with her hand. The elf laughed at the children’s reaction for he could tell they had never seen one of his kind before. Then he patted the stone step on each side of where he sat. “Come sit with me and I’ll tell you a story.”

Terrwyn and Hathmund took a seat next to the elf and listened as he told them about his adventures. He had fought with goblins and spiders near his home in Mirkwood, Orcs and Uruk hai in the recent war, even a troll. Hathmund listened but his mind still wandered to his father and how he would never tell them stories again. The elf sensed this from the boy, but instead of questioning him, he focused his attention on the girl. She was very attentive and believed his stories, even the parts he made up. He exaggerated his story to include a battle with a balrog, which was craftiness on his part, but not a word of it was true. Still, it intrigued the children and brought the boy out of his disparaging thoughts of his deceased father. During his storytelling, the elf made them laugh or quake with fright, even made them jump a time or two. When he was done, he smiled and laughed. Terrwyn laughed with him but Hathmund’s thoughts went back to his own recent misfortunes.

“That was a wonderful story Master Elf,” Terrwyn said with amazement.

“Why thank you my lady,” the elf answered and kissed her on the cheek. Terrwyn froze as she felt warmth and love emanate from him.

Hathmund’s dark mood returned. “Yea, you’re a good storyteller, but come now. Everyone has heard the legends and there is only one elf that ever slayed a balrog, and I doubt you are him.”

“Ah, so you know the story of the mighty elf lord Glorfindel. He will be pleased to know his tale has become legend and that even children of men now tell it,” the elf answered.

“You mean he is still alive?” Terrwyn asked excitedly. “It is my most favorite story. If I could ever meet such an important elf, it would be him.”

The elf mocked disappointment and sadly looked at Terrwyn. “And here I thought I had made such an impression on you.”

Terrwyn immediately realized what she said and could not stand to see an elf sad. She stood up, now as tall as the elf that still sat on the step, and threw her arm around his neck. “I am very glad to have met you,” she whispered in his ear. “And I think you are most handsome,” she added for good measure. Still, it was true as she seemed to develop a slight crush for this dark-haired elf. She stood back and thanked him again for sharing his glorious tales.

Hathmund merely rolled his eyes and took her by the hand. “Come on sissy. Mother will be wondering where we are.”

“No she won’t,” Terrwyn said very low so that no one heard her. She did not know of the keen hearing of the elves. He heard her and heard her sadness. It was such a shame he thought. She was a lovely child and it seemed already her life was full of hardships. The elf’s heart went out to Terrwyn. He took her hand and looked at her, capturing her green eyes with his brown ones.

“No matter what happens, know that she loves you. Sometimes grown-ups get so tied up in matters, they forget to say it, but I know they always feel it, and it never leaves their heart.”

It was at that moment that Terrwyn felt the magic of the elves. As he spoke to her and held her hand, she felt his kindness and love seep out of his fingers and into her skin where it traveled until it reached her heart. “I will never forget you,” she said and kissed his cheek.

The elf smiled and reached into his tunic. “Before you go, I have something for you both.” He pulled out a small dagger and handed it to Hathmund. “You are very brave for someone so young. I can see and feel your hurt, but also the love for your family and the burden of becoming their protector. May this blade continue to help you protect them.”

Hathmund took the small knife and examined it. It was not fancy, silver with a wooden handle and worn looking. There were elvish runes on it. “What do these mean?” he asked.

“It is a prayer to the Valar to watch over the one who carries it. Now may they watch over you, young Master Hathmund.”

The young boy had never been addressed as such and seemed to stand a little taller. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Terrwyn stood by patiently, hands behind her back and fingers entwined while she swayed back and forth. The elf looked at her and smiled, letting the moment last until it seemed she would burst. “Do you have something for me too?” she finally asked, not being able to wait any longer.

The elf smiled wide and reached into a pouch that hung at his side. He fumbled around, eyes looking upwards, biting his bottom lip in a childish way as if he could not find the thing he was searching for. Then he gasped and smiled wide, looking Terrwyn in the eyes and making her very excited. “Here it is!” he exclaimed and pulled something small from the pouch. She watched as he juggled it around as if he were about to drop it. Then he held his hands in front of her, clasped into fists. “Which one will you choose?” he asked.

Terrwyn stuck her tongue out running it along her top lip as if in deep concentration. She was afraid she would choose wrong and come up with an empty hand and no prize. She looked up at the elf and studied his face for any sign of a suggestion. He looked back and forth to both hands but seemed to linger on the right one more than the left. Terrwyn took a chance and chose the right hand. “That one,” she said.

The elf turned his fist over and slowly unwrapped his fingers, revealing a small wooden butterfly. She noticed how intricate the detail was and smiled. “Did you make this?” she asked.

“I did,” he answered proudly. “From a fallen branch of a very old beech tree in my woodland home of Mirkwood.”

Terrwyn accepted it, flipping it over several times to further examine it. The bottom was smooth and flat, but the top of the butterfly was carefully carved with swirls on its wings. It would have taken a sturdy hand to make such small details. “Surely this must have been a gift for someone. It is very well made and beautiful.”

“I was going to give it to my heart’s desire, but he needs no trinkets to remind him of my love,” the elf answered and his attention was drawn away briefly as if remembering something.

Terrwyn never took notice that the elf mentioned his love was a ‘he’. To her it just seemed to make sense. “But it was made for someone else. I cannot accept it.”

“I made it and it is my choice who I give it too. Besides, you remind me of a butterfly,” the elf said to gain her attention.

Terrwyn looked at him curiously. “A butterfly?”

“Well right now you are like the caterpillar and you are just going along without a worry. Then I see you locked inside yourself for a while, protecting yourself when no others can.” His voice was low as he spoke, as if he wanted no one else to hear. There was a sadness to it and Terrwyn felt it also, but it only lasted a moment before the elf was smiling again. “One day you will be free to spread your wings and you will be the most beautiful of all butterflies.”

Every word he said stuck in her mind and in her heart. This elf had touched her and she would never forget their first meeting. They truly were magical as far as she could see. From that moment on, Terrwyn would always long to be amongst the elves, as if it were where she truly belonged. She closed her small fingers around the wooden figure and held it to her heart. “Thank you Master Elf. I will never forget you,” she said and kissed his cheek one last time.

“Farewell Lady Terrwyn, and may the Valar keep you within their thoughts,” the elf whispered in her ear. She thought she could even smell the moss and early morning dew of his home and she longed to one day be amongst his kind.

And with that, the children skipped off to find their mother, but Terrwyn carried a newfound love in her heart and a desire to one day visit Mirkwood. Little did she know how much more it would mean one day.


	2. Life As She Once Knew It

 

Eventually Terrwyn, her brother Hathmund and her mother Larrwyn left the safety of Helm’s Deep and traveled back to their home in the Westfold. What they found was complete devastation. Their home, which was not more than a hut, along with their whole community had been burned to ashes. Horse carts, mills, everything was destroyed. The bodies of the fallen now poisoned the small lake used for their water supply. They could not live here anymore. All was in ruins, but Larrwyn would not leave. This was her home and the last place she was when Hathred, her husband fell. There was no closure for her, no body to bury, no Captain to give her his sword or any of his warrior possessions. She had nothing and so she fell into despair. Hathmund, though only a young boy of nine, tried to talk his mother into moving on with the others. The rest of their clan decided to move to the next village and start over again, but Larrwyn would hear none of it. A small group decided to stay and try to salvage their desecrated village in hopes of rebuilding it. She asked if friends would take the children with them. She said she would stay and build a new home with her bare hands if need be then send for the children when it was done. Hathmund knew this was not the right decision, but it was out of his hands. Now all he worried about was watching over and protecting young Terrwyn.

Hathmund went to his mother. “We are leaving with the others,” he said sounding much older than his age. There was no reaction from Larrwyn except to look at her young son with such sadness and desolation, nodding in agreement.

Terrwyn quietly watched. She no longer recognized her mother. This was not the same beautiful loving person she had known. Larrwyn was just a shell of her former self, yet Terrwyn still loved her just the same. “Please don’t stay here. I need you Mamma,” she cried and ran to her mother’s arms. She wanted her mother to wrap her arms around her and tell her all would be well, that they would find a new life, but that did not happen. Larrwyn sat there upon a charred barrel in the middle of a burned down village and did not move as if paralyzed. Terrwyn held her tight, lifting her mother’s arms to make her hold her, but Larrwyn’s arms just fell back to her lap.

Hathmund came up to his sister and pulled her off their mother. “Come sissy. We have to go.”

“No!” she yelled. “I won’t leave Mamma. Father is gone and she will be all alone.”

As if she was suddenly awakened, Larrwyn focused her attention on her young daughter. “It’s alright my sweet girl. Go with Hathmund. I will send for you when we have our home back.”

“I don’t want to go Mamma. Why can’t we stay here and help you?” Terrwyn cried, tears now streaking her dirty face.

Larrwyn wiped them away with her thumb and forced a smile. “It is too dangerous right now. You will be safe with the others. Besides, I will call you home and we will be together again.”

“Do you promise?” Terrwyn asked hopeful.

Larrwyn turned away from her daughter and stared out into the distance. “I promise,” she said, but the tone of her voice was as empty as the promise itself. Still, Terrwyn believed her and only because of that did she release her mother and go with Hathmund, leaving their mother behind.

* * *

Terrwyn and Hathmund settled in with their new family. It was not easy though. The couple already had children of their own and could not really afford two extra mouths to feed. Still, they did the best they could. Hathmund did not like being a burden and found a job running messages for the Rohirrim army. He was young and fast, which is why he did so well. Soon he was gone for long periods of time, leaving Terrwyn with the family. She helped them with everyday chores and pulled her own weight while hoping every day that her mother would send for them.

Days turned to weeks and weeks to months and all too soon, it had been three years. Their mother sent letters but never one telling them to come home. Terrwyn never gave up hope, but Hathmund saw things much differently. “She has forgotten us,” he said to his sister one day. He was home for a change, spending some precious time with his sister.

“Of course she hasn’t. She would not forget us,” Terrwyn argued. “Besides, what makes you so sure?”

Hathmund turned away from his sister. “Come now sissy, it has been three years and she has not called us home. She does not want us back,” he said in a hushed voice.

“Don’t say that. She just wants things to be in order. She will call us home. Just you wait,” she said fidgeting with something in her skirt pocket.

Hathmund watched her. “What have you got there?”

She smiled and pulled out the little wooden butterfly. “Remember the elf we met? He gave me this. I have kept it with me ever since.”

Hathmund did not say anything, but he too still carried the dagger the elf gifted him. He felt much stronger knowing it was with him.

Terrwyn smiled. “He said everything would be alright one day and I believe him. Elves cannot lie you know.”

* * *

Another year passed. Terrwyn was now ten, her brother thirteen. Hathmund was one of their best messengers and the Rohirrim relied on him heavily. Though the war was over and Gondor once again had a King, life was all but normal out on the plains. Not all men agreed with the decision to let a Ranger rule on the throne. There were Men of the South, dark skinned men up to no good, who often tested the borders. They came from Harad and Rhun and had once tamed great beasts that obeyed their commands during the War. Most had been killed or captured, some vowed to serve the new King of Gondor, but others still roamed freely. They were always looking for a way to take over some of the outer lands, claiming them for themselves and ignoring the new laws of the land. It was these men that the Rohirrim were at constant struggle with and why the Westfold was still not completely safe.

Hathmund had been away doing his service for the Rohirrim army. Now that he was older and knew the lands better, he knew of different paths, one leading to their old village. He made the choice to go there and hopefully see his mother, wanting to know why she had not sent for him and Terrwyn yet. He came upon a sight he wished he’d never seen. Instead of finding a newly renovated village, it was still in ruins, but for some of the huts. There were Southron soldiers ordering the people around. A group of sickly looking village men was gathered at one end of the small dirt road. Their hands were bound as they sat on the dirt ground. A few huts lined the road, village women standing in front of their doors. The Southrons that were not guarding the men paraded up and down the road, inspecting whatever little work had been done to the village. One of the dark men went to the prisoners, speaking harshly to them. Hathmund could only make out a word here or there. It seemed one of the men was giving the Haradrim a list of some sort, tools and material needed to repair the mill. Another villager snapped in response to the first man’s request, telling him not to do this, and a Harad soldier hit him across the jaw with the handle of a large knife. The injured man fell to the ground and did not move, obviously knocked unconscious. After a little more discussion between villagers and Haradrim, the Southrons left the group of imprisoned men and headed in the direction of the huts. One particularly tall and muscular Southron went to one of the women standing in front of her small hut. He spoke to her briefly then pointed to one of the men, her husband perhaps. The woman nodded, but would not look the Southron in the eye. He turned back, glancing to the woman’s husband, smirked and focused on the woman again. He reached out and took her chin, turning her head roughly from one side to the other as if inspecting her. Then he turned her and shoved her towards the door of the small house. The woman made no fuss and moved inside, still looking at the ground. The Southron followed her, but paused before going all the way in. He looked once more to the husband and nodded silently, telling the villager that they had a deal. Then he disappeared through the door and closed it behind him.

Hathmund, though young, understood what was going on. The Haradrim were trading tools, materials, food and other resources for the use of the village women. He could not understand why they would do this, but the reason was simple. It was just another way to belittle the Rohirrim and slowly take over the outer lands of Rohan. His stomach started to turn in disgust. His and Terrwyn’s mother was here with these lowlife men. He looked around anxiously as he watched the Southrons picking which women they wished to take. None of them was his mother, but some of the huts seemed already occupied. Hathmund wondered if she was in one of these huts already with one of the Haradrim abusing her. There was nothing he could do right now. He was only one, only a boy. The situation was too dangerous now, but he would return. He would come back and protect his mother. He would not leave their mother to deal with this horrible situation alone. He went off on his own, hiding until the Southrons left. It would be another day before he could go to her. He would not be ready to see Larrwyn in the condition she was in, thin and fragile, her spirit broken.

* * *

Hathmund had been gone for quite some time. It was his longest time away from Terrwyn, three months. She hoped everything was alright and that he was just busy running messages. In the meantime, Terrwyn found employment in the village stables. To her it was a treat to be amongst the horses. The hut in which she stayed with the family seemed to be getting a little cramped lately as all the children grew. They were very kind to her and her brother though. It had been a good experience and a lesson in independence as her and Hathmund helped with money.

She soon found out that being a stable hand made more money than what the stable owner paid. The horse owners occasionally gave her a little extra, which she put away to save for a later use. For what she did not know, but hoped it would help her and Hathmund return to their mother quicker.

One day, she was at the stables brushing down a beautiful brown mare. As she carefully untangled its long mane, her thoughts took her back to Helm’s Deep and the beautiful elf she met. She thought about the elves often and how fortunate they were to live such carefree lives. It was a life she longed for, but it seemed out of her reach. She was too young yet to set out on her own and there was still the situation with her mother. Family was more important than seeing elves and so she worked on, always wondering about the fair folk. Anytime someone came into the stable telling tales of their recent adventures, she listened carefully. Sometimes, they spoke of elves and how they were leaving Middle-earth. It made her sad to think that they would one day be gone. Her hand wandered to her pocket where she kept the gift from the elf she met. She smiled and promised to one-day venture from her homeland to see the elves before they all but disappeared, and maybe find the one she had met earlier.

Time passed slowly. Four months now it had been and still Hathmund had not returned home, nor had she received a letter from her mother. Terrwyn was worried for she had heard some men speaking in the stables. They talked of activity at the borders. It seemed the Haradrim were becoming braver and assaulting the troops more often. Their numbers were quietly increasing. Terrwyn feared for her brother who was at the front lines passing messages to and from the different troops of soldiers. She hoped that this was the reason he was gone so long. His workload may have increased, keeping him away longer.

She was on her way home from a long day working the stable when she noticed some of the villagers coming from their huts. They seemed to be upset and anxious. More people started running here and there, loading packs on carts and horses. Something was happening and she needed to get home. Terrwyn picked up speed and ran the rest of the way. When she got there, her foster family was busy packing their own cart, gathering what little supplies they had. Terrwyn’s heart sank immediately. She ran to her foster father. “What has happened?”

The father, a man who looked older than his age because of fighting and injuries in war, was finishing saddling their horse and turned to her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “Thank the gods you are home. There is not a moment to spare. We must be going.”

Terrwyn was suddenly filled with fear. She pushed away from him to look him in his weathered face. “What happens? What have you heard?”

“My dear Terrwyn, word has just reached us that a group of Southrons breached the border unchecked. They must have been in disguise to slip past the guards. They made their way through the plains, plundering and killing along the way. They are headed this direction. We must leave now before they come,” he said with panic in his deep voice.

Terrwyn shook her head. “No, I will not leave without my brother. And what of Mother? Has anyone received word from my old village? Has anyone been sent to warn them?”

“I do not know, but there is no time now. If we stay we will be killed and you . . .” He paused, afraid to go on and tell her the truth he knew about the Southrons. “You and the rest of the children would be in worse danger. Now go and gather only what you can carry. We don’t have room for everything, only that which is most precious to you.”

Terrwyn looked at him with tears in her eyes. “The only thing precious to me is not with me,” she said sadly, thinking of her family.

Within the hour, the family, along with the other villagers, fled from their home once again. Terrwyn sat in the back of the cart with the other children, looking back to her second home. She was deeply worried for her mother and her brother. She could only pray that they would be safe and that the Rohirrim would find and hunt down the Haradrim before they got that far.

Three days they had traveled and now they camped under the stars. They were heading for Edoras where they felt they would be the safest. It was the middle of the night and Terrwyn could not sleep. She had a terrible feeling in her gut that something happened. She needed to know. The thought of leaving without Hathmund tore at her mind. He would be looking for her and she would not be there. Her instincts told her to stay where she was and Hathmund would eventually find her, but her heart said otherwise. Although her foster family had been good to her and Hathmund, they were not her real family. She could not abandon her brother. She needed to find him. And so, Terrwyn gathered her small pack, taking a loaf of bread and a small skin of water. She went to the area where the villager’s horses were temporarily housed and found the pony that belonged to her foster family. Carefully and quietly, she saddled him and untied the reins. She fastened her pack and jumped on, walking slowly off so as not to draw attention to herself. She did not get far when someone called to her, stopping her.

“Where are you off to?” said a young man not more that eighteen or nineteen.

Terrwyn was still just a young girl and she knew he would not think she was leaving. She put on her best smile and looked warmly at the young man. “My brother is not feeling well and our water has run out. I was merely going to the spring to refill my skin,” she said innocently. She reached back and held up the skin, hoping he would not take it. Then he would know it was already full and keep her from leaving.

The young man looked at her and then to the pony who was obviously used for making short trips. He nodded in satisfaction and told her to be quick. Terrwyn thanked him and headed in the direction of a nearby spring. It was opposite of the direction she needed to go, but there was a tree line not far where she could disappear unnoticed and at a safe distance. She looked back several times to see the man watching her and pretended to fill her skin. Then she went back and attached it to the horse. That was when the young man seemed to be called away by someone. He pointed in her direction and the new person waved his hand as if to tell him not to worry about it. Then they both went off and out of view. Terrwyn leapt onto her pony and took off towards the trees. This was her only chance to slip away and she did just that. Her horse was small and the trees were far enough apart that she could ride slightly further into the woods. Then she would change direction and go the way she needed to go. It would take her a little longer to ride around the camp but it was all she could do. With that, Terrwyn slipped off into the night heading back to her original village where she hoped to find her mother.

* * *

It took Terrwyn all of three days to get back to her old village, the one where her foster family lived. It was completely deserted and ransacked. Nothing was left unturned. Crops were destroyed, some buildings were burned. She went to her home and found furniture upturned, pottery smashed, closets emptied. It was obvious the intruders were looking for anything of value, but why waste time in these small villages. Most people had not much and were poor. She went to her room and found her bed flipped onto its side. On the dirty floor was a picture book. She had forgotten about it. It was tucked beneath the hay-filled mattress, kept safe from the younger children who might rip its pages. Terrwyn kept it as a reminder of her father. He had given it to her as a gift after returning from one of his long missions. Now the book lay on the dirt floor, trampled on, pages torn and completely in ruins. A tear escaped the corner of her eye. Why had she forgotten it when they left? She grabbed other things that meant less to her heart. Maybe it was because she had not thought of her father in a very long time. Every year that passed, it became harder to remember what he looked like or sounded like. She picked up what was left of the little book and a page fell out floating to the floor. Terrwyn picked it up and looked at it through teary eyes. It was a picture of a rose, one of her favorite flowers. She had never seen one except in this book. It was in full bloom and a dusty pink color that reminded her of the twilight skies in the plains. Some of the petals were drawn to look like they were falling from it. For some reason, she always loved this picture more than any of the others. Now she neatly folded it and tucked it into her pocket. This was all she had left to remind her of her father.

Suddenly, fear struck her heart. Whomever did this would have come across her mother’s village first. It was only a two-day ride away and she knew she could not stay here for fear of the Southrons returning. She took one last look around the hut and went outside. A turned over barrel lay off to the side and she could see apples spilling from it. Grabbing some and putting them into her pack, she returned to her pony and fed him one. The small horse was exhausted but she had to go on. She had to find her mother and so after a short rest, she moved on.

Smoke rose just over a small hill. Terrwyn’s old home was on the other side. She prayed that it was smoke from a wood fire, someone cooking an evening meal. Her prayers went unanswered as she reached the top of the hill and looked down. What was left of the old village was destroyed once more. One small hut smoldered, the reason for the smoke. This was the first time Terrwyn had been back since Larrwyn sent her and Hathmund away to live with family friends. It looked like the progress had been slow, but now whatever effort they made was demolished once again. She made her way down the middle of the village and gasped at what she saw. Bloody and beaten bodies of the deceased lay strewn about. She felt her stomach lurch, but was afraid to leave her pony and went on. Then she came to her old home. The door was ripped off and lay to the side. Some of the thatching from the roof was strewn about. Terrwyn paused a moment, afraid to go any further but knowing she had to see if anyone was inside. Slowly she slid from the ponies back, looking around to make sure there was no other movement. Then she walked to the doorway and peered in. There was nothing inside but for a small table with two chairs, some pots and clay bowls, and to the back, there was a torn apart makeshift mattress. Something stuck out from under it. Terrwyn was terrified to see what it was, but it glinted in the soft sunlight shining in through a window. She approached and found a small knife lying on the dirt floor. At a closer look, she saw it was her brother’s knife, the one the elf had given him. It had blood on the blade. Terrwyn swallowed hard and picked it up. As she crouched down, a heaped shape in the corner caught her attention. Slowly she stood up only to find it was her mother lying on her side, her arm twisted unnaturally and covering her face. The young girl immediately began crying. She walked to her mother and looked down. Almost afraid to touch her, Terrwyn nudged her leg with her foot. The body rolled over and she saw what had been her mother’s fate. Larrwyn was extremely thin and pale, as if she had not eaten in a very long time. She had two blackened eyes. Her lips were swollen and bloodied. Her clothes were torn and there looked to be blood under her fingernails. There were red marks around her neck, like the imprints of fingers. It seemed her mother had fought off her attackers but lost her life in the end. She had been beaten and strangled. Terrwyn also knew what else these Men of the South were capable of and that explained the torn clothes. She knelt down next to her mother’s body and wept. What would she do now? She had no family. Her father and mother were now dead and her brother . . . Well, she did not exactly know what happened to her brother. Why was his knife here? Had he given it to Larrwyn during one of his visits? Had he been here recently?

There was a sound of pots clinking from the front room. Terrwyn gasped and looked around. Someone was in the hut. Afraid it was the Haradrim come back to check for treasure, she hid in a corner behind an upturned table and prayed the intruder would leave without finding her. Someone moaned and a clay jar crashed to the floor. Whoever was in the house sounded as if they were injured. Terrwyn peeked from around the table and saw a man, a villager, crawling on his belly, searching through the fallen pots and pans. She went to him and saw that he was badly injured. He slowly looked up at the small girl.

“Water. Please,” he said in a raspy voice.

Terrwyn ran from the hut to her pony, grabbed the water skin and returned to the man lying on the floor. She helped him to sit up against the wall and held the container to his mouth. He drank a little and then choked in pain. There was a big gash in his side and blood poured from the wound. He was beyond helping now.

“You must go and warn others. More will come,” he managed to say.

“The other village left more than a week ago. I was with them but came back to find my mother,” she said.

The battered man squint his eyes. “You are Larrwyn’s child,” he whispered.

“Yes. My brother, was he here? I found his dagger and--.”

“He was here. He came to warn us, but it was too late. They took him,” said the man. “The Southrons took him. They take all children they find, enslave them and turn them against their own people.” He looked up into Terrwyn’s eyes. “You must get far from here or the same thing will happen to you, only worse.”

“I have to find my brother,” she cried. “If he is still alive, I must find him. He is all I have now.”

“He is gone child. They have him now. There is no telling where they took him and if he is too much trouble, they will kill him anyways. Now go. Leave this place and never look back. Get to Edoras and warn them.” As the man finished speaking, he coughed up blood. Suddenly he could not breathe. He was drowning from fluid in his lungs. He leaned his head back against the wall, looked to the ceiling and took his last breath.

There was nothing more she could do. Terrwyn had to go, but she hated the thought of leaving her mother’s body for scavengers. Digging a grave would take too long and she had no time. So she found a torch lying on the ground, lit it from the smoldering hut and came back to her old home. She lit the thatched roof on fire and soon the entire hut was ablaze. When she was sure it would burn completely, Terrwyn jumped back onto her pony and headed back towards Edoras. All she could think of was her brother and needing to find him.

Tired, cold and hungry, Terrwyn had traveled nearly a week now. She rode out of the woods, the same ones she disappeared into. More devastation. The group of villagers she left behind was attacked. All were dead. By now, some of the Rohirrim were patrolling the area. Terrwyn was never so glad to see the tall golden soldiers. She was weakened by hunger and her pony could barely take another step, but she moved towards the Rohirrim soldiers. They saw her small figure and went to her. Terrwyn told them her story about how she returned to her home, found the dead villagers and her missing brother.

“We found the Southrons as they were rummaging through the debris.” said one very tall, golden haired man of Rohan. 

“My brother was with them,” she cried. “They took him.”

“We saw no one but the intruders. We left none alive,” he said to the girl. She faltered and started to fall but the strong man caught her before she hit the ground. He carried her to a group of other soldiers. As he carried her, Terrwyn managed to open her eyes and see the dead bodies of both villagers and Haradrim. And then something caught her eye. Reddish blonde hair on a body lying face down in the dirt. Terrwyn struggled in the man’s arms.

“Put me down.” she screamed with sudden strength and the man could not hold her. He put her down and she ran to the body. She knelt next to him. It looked like Hathmund but she could not be sure and turned the body until the face was clear. Terrwyn broke down into a fit of tears.

Finally, the same tall man came to Terrwyn’s side and kneeled on one knee next to her. “I am sorry,” he said. 

Terrwyn looked up with a tear-streaked face. “It is not him, but he is not here. They have him.”

The tall Rohirrim opened his arms to her and held her like any parent would hold a grieving child. She cried until her tears ran dry and she fell asleep. They placed her in a cart and took her along with them to Edoras.


	3. Last Wish

 

Terrwyn’s whole world was gone now. She was an orphan. With both parents dead and her brother missing and possibly sharing the same fate, she was utterly alone. Her foster family was gone too, taken by the hands of the Haradrim. The soldiers brought her to a place just outside the city of Rohan. There were other children housed there who were orphaned by the recent war. Terrwyn felt she did not belong here. She knew she was at an age where being adopted was not an option. They only wanted the younglings. She had no skills other than feeding and brushing the horses. She knew enough to get by on her own so she left the orphanage and sought work in the city, working in the stables. The stables inside the city gates were far fancier than any she had ever seen. They even looked more comfortable than the hut she used to live in. The stable owner asked her many questions, which she lied about when he asked her about her family. The young girl told him they lived on the outskirts of the city and they needed the extra money. He believed her story, and lucky for her they could use a few extra stable hands so she was hired. 

Still, there was the ever-present thought of Hathmund. Terrwyn wondered where he was and if he was still alive. She recalled the injured villager and his words to her. They eradicated the ones who put up a fight. She could not see Hathmund giving in to the Haradrim and feared the worst for her brother. There was nothing she could do right now. She was young and alone, no money and no home. It was impossible for her to try to find him and most dangerous. She would just pray that he yet lived and that someday she could look for him.

Terrwyn continued to work in the stable. She did a fine job caring for the horses and some gave her extra money. She saved up what little she had to buy clothes or food. It was about all she could afford. It was honest work and she enjoyed it. The stable owner thought she was very hard working, which she was. What he did not know was that she was sleeping and living there. Every evening, she slipped back into the stable and curled up in a corner of the loft or an empty stall. She really did not mind. It was better than living in the orphanage. The hay was warm and the light neighing of the horses was quite soothing. A nice comfortable blanket or throw would have been better than the tattered horse blanket she used for warmth, but it would do for now. Maybe if she saved her money, she could afford a better throw.

Now, most people who came to the stable either were nobles or just well off. Most paid her no mind and only a few gave her extra money. There was one man in particular whom she saw often. He was an older man. His traditional blonde Rohirric hair was beginning to turn grey. He walked with a slight limp, probably from an old injury. His face was creased and weathered and his beard matched the grey of his hair. He did not speak much but always smiled to her and thanked her for taking care of his horse. It just so happened that this was her favorite horse to groom. Brannoss was his name, meaning noble kindred. He was a silver-grey horse, very gentle and he loved apples. She formed a closer bond with this one more than the others. The owner always gave Terrwyn an extra coin, which she used to by the horse treats. 

One night, while Terrwyn lay curled up sleeping, someone entered the stable. She heard the sound of footsteps swishing through the hay-strewn floor and froze. If this were the stable owner, she would surely be fired. Carefully, she peeked out from under her old dirty horse blanket. To her surprise, it was Brannoss’ owner. She had never seen him at this hour. No one ever came to the stable at this time of night. Terrwyn wondered why he was here.

“Ah, Brannoss my friend, you have been a good steed, but I am afraid I must find you a new home,” he said.

Terrwyn gasped at this news. She loved this horse above any of the others. The man stopped speaking and looked around the stable after hearing a noise. A slight movement in the corner alerted him to a possible intruder. Carefully, he walked to the back of the stable. Terrwyn held as still as she could and hoped he would leave. The man looked down at the dirty blanket and something caught his eye. He recognized the edge of Terrwyn’s tan dress. Why was she sleeping in the stable he thought? He wondered about the youth. She seemed out of place in the city, but he did not think on it too much. Now he realized that she was living here, probably homeless. There were many homeless children now days. He decided to pretend he saw nothing and went back to his horse, patted him on the head and gave him some carrots and apples before he left.

Terrwyn hid until she was sure he was gone. Then she went to Brannoss and laid her head on the tall horse’s shoulder while stroking his mane. “This is terrible news. He will miss you. There must be a good reason why you cannot stay here. If I had the money, I would buy you and make you my own.”

Brannoss nodded his head and snorted, nuzzling Terrwyn’s hair. “I love you too Brannoss,” she said and went back to her makeshift bed in the hay.

The next day was like any other. Terrwyn groomed and fed the horses, cleaned stables and beat the dust from blankets. She was just finishing one of her many chores when Brannoss’ owner came in. She figured he was here to take him and sell him. Her heart fell slightly for she really loved this horse. The man entered the stall and Terrwyn followed him, bringing his blanket and reins. The man saddled Brannoss and made a few adjustments. While he did, Terrwyn stroked the great beast’s head, looking quite sad and the man noticed.

He gave her a sidelong glance and said in a deep rough voice. “Do you not have a home girl?”

Terrwyn knew he must have seen or heard her the night before so she would not lie. “No sir. My parents are dead and so I came here looking for shelter and coin,” she responded in a quiet mousy voice.

The man stood a moment looking down at this poor creature. She was very young, almost too young he thought. “Your age,” he demanded.

“I am eleven . . .” she paused, afraid of what he would do. Some men saw a girl her age as being old enough to be treated as a woman and that was not a good thing. However, she felt no such thing from him. “Please do not tell anyone about my residence in the stable. I have nowhere else to go,” she pleaded.

The man bent down to push a strand of hair from her eyes and noticed how she seemed to cower and scoot away from him. It hurt him that she thought he might have other intensions. “Be still child. I mean you no harm.” Then he chuckled lightly. “You are too young for me. I am not like some of the men here,” he commented. Terrwyn knew of what he spoke. “How long have you lived in this stable?”

“Most of three months now, but it is not so bad. It is better than my old home in the Westfold,” she said as she continued to stroke Brannoss, feeling more comfortable in the man’s presence. “Are you selling him?” she asked. The man nodded in silence. “It is a shame. Brannoss is a fine horse indeed. I will miss him. We have become good friends.”

“I can tell. He seems much happier since you came here to Edoras,” the man replied. He finished with the saddle and reins then turned to Terrwyn. “My name is Alric.”

“I am Terrwyn,” she answered and smiled. “Why are you selling him if I may ask?” Terrwyn went on.

“I am getting older and have fewer places to go. Brannoss is still young and needs to be ridden more often. He will do someone else more good. Believe me I hate to do it. He was my wife’s favorite, but she died last year. She got sick with a disease. There was nothing the healers could do.”

“Surely you have a son or a daughter that could take him,” Terrwyn said trying to find a solution.

Alric shook his head. “My sweet Nareena could not bear me a child. We tried, for we wanted that more than anything. That’s where Brannoss comes in. Bought him as a foal. Nareena raised him herself. It wasn’t like having a child but it was something and it made her happy.”

“I am sorry,” Terrwyn said. She looked back to the horse. “If I could I would buy him from you, but I’ve barely enough money for food.”

“Well, he will go to a good home no doubt. He is strong and takes kindly to strangers,” Alric said. “I’m just going to ride him once more and say my goodbyes.” 

Terrwyn nodded but frowned as she thought about not seeing Brannoss again.

Alric hopped onto the horses back and led him from the stall. He turned to leave the stable but paused. Something about this girl touched Alric’s heart. He was a solitary man and knew better than to get involved with other’s affairs, but he couldn’t help wonder about this poor girl Then something his wife said to him came to the front of his mind. She had always wanted to help the children that needed it, especially since she could have none of her own.

He paused in the doorway then turned back to Terrwyn. “You know, I could use some help around the house. Since my wife passed, things have gone awry. You would have to cook and clean but it would be better than working in a stable.”

Terrwyn was shocked and suspicious. Living once again in a house sounded wonderful, but with a man . . . and alone, she was not sure.

Alric sensed her hesitation. “You have nothing to worry about. I am just looking for someone to take care of things, nothing more. I will pay you well. You will have your own room with a comfortable bed.”

Something about him was honest and Terrwyn trusted him. She walked over to where he sat on his horse. “It would be better than here I suppose. I accept, though I am not much of a cook. But I will learn.”

Alric smiled feeling as if he had done something good. “It will be a pleasure to have someone to talk to again.”

Terrwyn had a thought. “If you keep Brannoss, perhaps I can ride him for you. I will take as good a care of him as I do now.”

Alric smiled, maybe for the first time since his wife passed. “I think we can do that.”

And with that, Terrwyn’s life took a turn for the better.

* * *

Alric was wonderful to Terrwyn. He taught her many things that she would use throughout her life. The most important was how to wield a dagger. She had showed him the elvish blade that belonged to her brother. Alric looked upon it with amazement.

“In all my long life I have never seen an elvish weapon. And you say one of the fair folk gifted it to you?” he asked curiously.

“Actually, he gave it to my brother,” she said.

Alric looked at her from the corner of his eye. “I know how much you miss him. Never give up hope that you will one day be reunited.”

Terrwyn sighed. “And even if that were to happen, what kind of man will he be? The Haradrim are cruel. He may be more like them now then who he really is.”

Alric wrapped his arms around her, holding her in a fatherly embrace. “Should he ever meet you again, he will remember,” he whispered. Then he released her and a smile spread across his old weathered face. “Come now. Let me teach you a few defensive moves I learned from none other than the King of Rohan himself.”

Terrwyn looked at him with a cocked eyebrow. “You knew the King?”

Alric stood up straight crossing his arms. “Théoden and I were inseparable as children in the Mark. It wasn’t until he began his training for the throne that we lost touch. Still, we got together as often as we could and he taught me a thing or two. Now I will teach you.” He went to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “You know Terrwyn; you are becoming quite a lovely young girl and soon an even lovelier young woman. There are men out there that will try to take advantage of that.”

“You mean like those men that come by from time to time?” she said curiously. Over the past few months, a group of gangly looking men came to visit Alric. He would never let them in the house though they snuck looks past him and eyed Terrwyn as she stood by watching. Alric said they were past associates, but Terrwyn saw them as trouble. It seemed they wanted something from Alric. Whatever it was, he would not say or discuss it with her.

“You mustn’t fall for any of their false charms. I always told Nareena that if we had a girl, I would teach her to protect herself. The times are changing and there is no reason a woman must depend solely on a man. You must learn to be independent and wait for the right man to come along. He should be strong and kind. He should want to give you everything you wish for and support all your talents, let you become who you were meant to be.”

Terrwyn smiled and put her hand in her pocket. She secretly rubbed the wooden butterfly. “I don’t think I shall ever find a man that fits that description, but rather an elf if I am lucky enough.”

“My dear, the times are changing but they are not changing that quickly. They have rules and one of them is not to mix with humans,” he replied convincingly.

“I don’t know Alric. Once their magic touches you, it is as if they are a part of you. One day I wish to journey to their land.” Terrwyn got a far off look in her eye just then. “Have you ever heard them sing? It is a most beautiful sound. It has been stuck in my mind for years, as if I only heard it yesterday.”

Alric shook his head. “That is naught more than fancy dreaming, but you go ahead and make your dreams. Maybe you will get your wish one day. Who am I to say otherwise?”

Terrwyn kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you Alric, for believing in me. Now do not fret. I will be going nowhere so long as you are here. This is where my home is now and I am very content.”

* * *

Quite a few years had passed by. Terrwyn was now a beautiful young woman at eighteen. She was happy that she accepted Alric’s offer that day in the stable. He became like a father to her, teaching her many things. She became rather well at knife throwing. Alric gifted her a beautiful silver set with horses etched into the handles, a symbol of Rohan. She also learned to wield a sword, another gift from her adopted father and again a very expensive weapon. Alric was not able to work much in the past few years with his ailing health. He only took a job here or there, but not anything that would allow him to afford such luxury. One day she asked him about it as she was cleaning up after dinner.

“Alric, how is it you can afford such fine weaponry?” she asked him one day.

“I can afford it and that is all you need to know,” he answered.

“Well, you should not be spending it on me. You need it for the healers now,” Terrwyn argued.

“Ack, healers,” Alric protested. “What do they know anyways? I never told you this, but the day I was going to sell Brannoss was the day the healers told me I only had a few months left to live.” He walked to Terrwyn taking her chin in his calloused fingers. “And then you came into my life and I had purpose once more. I had someone to take care of, someone to raise. You gave me the best gift of all. So if I happen to buy you the finest weapons it is only out of the goodness of my heart.”

Terrwyn put down the dishtowel and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. “I appreciate everything you have done for me, Alric. Everything you have ever given me has been beautiful. I just don’t want you to spend it all on me. I need no fancy weapons or trinkets. I am just grateful to have you. When you took me in, you saved my life and that is the greatest give of all.”

Alric kissed the top of her head and choked back a tear. “Well, you are worth it,” he finally managed to say.

Everything seemed to be going along well. Those men Terrwyn didn’t like still came by every so often, but they seemed to stay their distance as long as Alric was there. She could not help but notice they were becoming a little more aggressive. Other than this one problem, her life was going along quite fine. She kept a tidy house and learned to cook very well. Lately, she was taking care of Alric a bit more than before. His knees grew weak and it became hard for him to walk. He no longer took on any kind of jobs. Terrwyn however, started running errands for some of the older townsfolk. They in turn paid her for her time and she used that money for food. Alric would not hear of it at first, saying he had money stashed away that they could use, but Terrwyn still contributed in her own way, putting aside the money he gave her. She would put it back when he was not looking and never really seemed to catch on to what she was doing.

Every day, Alric seemed to get a little weaker and then one day he became sick with a fever. His skin was burning up but he shivered as if it was the dead of winter. Terrwyn did everything she could for him but he just seemed to get worse. With the money she saved up, she paid the best healer in Edoras to see Alric. He protested, yelled and ranted about the ‘damned healers’, but now he agreed to let her do this. They came and examined Alric with their tools and medicines. The fever eventually passed but it left him crippled and bed ridden. Finally, the healers determined that there was nothing else to do. He was completely dependent on Terrwyn now. This upset him at first but she calmed him.

“You should not be stuck here taking care of an old man. Most girls your age are already starting families of their own.” Alric sat up and took her hand.

Terrwyn smiled and laid her other hand on top of his. “You are talking nonsense Alric. Who else is there to take care of you? All these years we have had each other and I am not about to let that change now. Besides, there is no one who holds my interest here in the city, and I’m not sure there ever will be.”

“What about that nice young Rohirrim guard you pass on the way to the shops. You are always saying how polite he is and what nice conversations you have,” Alric said with a hopeful tone.

“Taldred? Well yes, he is very kind, but I do not see him as such. He is just a friend and I am very glad to know him.”

Alric noticed the far off glance in her eyes. “You still dream about the elves. Terrwyn, it can never be. Humans and elves, it is forbidden. Many a young man and woman have found themselves smitten with the fair folk. Legend tells us that only a few were granted such a relationship and even then, it was doomed. You are wasting your good child-bearing years taking care of an old fool and pining over someone you don’t even know exists.”

Terrwyn did not feel this way at all. Ever since meeting the handsome chestnut haired elf in Helm’s Deep, she longed to be amongst their kind. He touched her heart that day and gave her a gift she would never part with. It was as if a part of his elvishness embedded itself into her very soul. Alric would never understand her longing for he had not been touched. There was no use explaining it further or arguing with him so she fluffed his pillows and helped him to lie back down. With a warm smile and a squeeze of his hand, Terrwyn left to go about her daily chores.

* * *

A few weeks had passed now and Alric’s health was failing. He had developed a cough and it was becoming hard for him to breath. He hardly ate and even then, it was broth, nothing solid. Terrwyn’s heart was already breaking. She loved him like a father and wondered what would become of her when he passed. She would be alone again and the very thought frightened her. Maybe Alric was right about settling down with a nice Rohan man. Stability was very important to her, even if it meant marrying someone she did not love. Taldred, the young guard seemed to show an interest in her. He was very handsome and kind and would make a good husband, but she felt nothing towards him in that way. Could she learn to love him? Maybe she could just be content to have someone take care of her and give her a home. Eventually he would want children. Could she bear a child to a man she did not love? 

As all of these thoughts plagued her mind, Alric stirred from his slumber and a cough attack ensued. Terrwyn ran to him, helped him sit up and held a cloth over his mouth. Lately he had been spitting up blood, another sign of his failing health. When the coughing passed, she wiped his face with a cool damp cloth and helped him to lie back down. Terrwyn sat with him until she was sure he was asleep. Just as she was about to get up, Alric slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. “I’m dying, child. I can feel it. I do not have much longer.”

Terrwyn took his hands in hers and started to speak but he stopped her. “Listen my dear one. I have something that I want you to have. It is the reason I have always had money.”

She crinkled her brow and looked at him questioningly. Still, Alric would not let her speak. “I want you to go to the chest at the foot of my bed. There is something in there that you will need when I am gone, my treasure.”

“Alric, I have been in there many times. There is nothing but throws and bed linens in there,” she said.

The old man simply shook his head. “No, my dear. In the very bottom is a secret compartment. There you will find a velvet bag with some jewels in it. It is no king’s ransom but it is worth something. I want you to take them and leave Edoras. This is no place to live. You deserve a much better life. Go to Gondor or travel far from here. Perhaps follow your silly dream and visit the elves. Just promise me you will not stay here. Go to find your happiness.”

“But why, Alric? I am perfectly fine here in--.”

“No!” he shouted with his last bit of energy. “You are not safe here. They will come for the jewels. They know Terrwyn, and they will come when they know I am gone.”

“You speak of these men that visit you don’t you?” she said with a quiet voice. “Alric, what do they want? What are these jewels you speak of?”

“It is a long story, but I was hired to find them. When I found out what they wanted them for, I could not give them over. One jewel is not worth much, but a pouch full is. My dear Terrwyn, they have ties to the Haradrim. They travel to the outer edge of Rohan and communicate with the enemy. They have been promised something if they deliver the jewels to one of the chief Haradrim. I cannot tell you what they wish to accomplish but it is very cruel and will destroy lives. They have no respect for women, especially ones as innocent and lovely as you.” Alric paused and sat up as best he could to look deep into Terrwyn’s eyes. “I have seen the way these men look at you. Why do you think I gave you the throwing knives? Why do you think I taught you how to wield a sword? I knew that one day I would not be here to protect you. I had hoped that you would be married off by now, and have a strong good man to protect you. Terrwyn, you are a beautiful young woman, a diamond amongst soot and coal. These men do not see you as thus. They would take you and--,” Alric stopped from describing it to her. “Please promise me you will do this. When I die, take the jewels and leave. Do not stay even one day. They will know and they will come.”

Not wanting to upset him, Terrwyn smiled and squeezed his hands. “I promise.” A tear came to her eye. “You have been like a father to me and for that I am so thankful.”

He smiled. “And you are the daughter my wife and I could not have. Thank you for fulfilling an old man’s dream. I love you Terrwyn, daughter.”

“And I love you too . . . father.”

Terrwyn helped Alric ease back into his pillows. She petted his forehead and kissed him tenderly. Then she settled into a chair next to his bed. She felt a change in the air and did not want to leave him alone. She watched as Alric’s breathing steadied and slowed. When it seemed he was resting peacefully, he took his last few final breaths and passed from the world. Terrwyn laid her head on his chest and cried softly into the night.


	4. Trapped

Chapter 4 Trapped

It had been a week since Alric passed. He had told her to leave as soon as he was gone, but she could not. He had no family except her. There was no one to see to his burial. He was like her father and she felt this was her responsibility. This was just what she did. With the help of a few of his friends, they set his funeral. Taldred, the young guard who held a soft spot for Terrwyn, made sure some of the more decorated Rohan soldiers attended his funeral and gave Alric a proper burial, being he once served the former King Théoden. Now, Terrwyn sat on Alric’s empty bed staring at his cedar chest. The jewels were still hidden inside. She had a very big decision to make. Should she do as Alric said, take the jewels and leave Edoras, or stay in the city and try to make her own life. To leave Rohan, the only home she’d ever known, was a very big step. Could she do this? Could she actually follow her dream and see out the elves? It was fine to dream about it from the safety of her home, but to actually ride out on her own and let the fates decide her future was a reality she never thought possible.

Terrwyn got up and went to the chest. She opened it and took out its contents, lifted up the fake bottom and retrieved the pouch of jewels. Spreading them on the bed, she looked at them. They were still in their raw form, not yet shaped into any specific. Alric never did explain clearly, what their intent was. She wondered what these men would have traded them for. Maybe it was better that she didn’t know.

“Well Alric,” she said as if he were still in the room. “I have thought about it and I believe I will follow your advice. I am going to leave Edoras, though I know not where I will go. I have heard it said that Ithilien is a beautiful place where both elves and men dwell. It is such a long way from here though.” She smiled as she looked over to a chair that still had his clothes neatly folded and stacked on the seat, his cane leaning against its arm. “You would say I am foolish to still dream of living amongst the elves, but I know you would not have stopped me. This is my chance. You have given me a gift that could change my life.”

Terrwyn scooped up the jewels and put them back into the pouch. She stuffed it into a traveling bag that was already packed with some of her clothes and a few memorabilia. She wore her riding outfit, dark brown pants, white shirt and a tan vest, which fit snug and showed off her slim waist. At her side, sheathed in a leather scarab, she had her brother’s elvish knife. Around her thigh was one of her throwing knives and in her hand, she held her sheathed sword.

Terrwyn was ready to leave Edoras and had been since the day after Alric’s funeral. Now she stood at the front door and turned back one last time to look at the small house that had been her home for the past several years. It was a good life, living here and learning all that she did, but now it was time to head out on her own. She turned back to the front door, opened it and took that first step to independence. Terrwyn smiled and breathed deep. Somehow, the air seemed fresher this evening, or maybe it was just her.

“I am ready,” she whispered to herself and walked off toward the stables. There was only one thing left to do.

As she went along, she passed Taldred’s guard station. She stopped to speak with him. He greeted her with his warmest smile. “Good evening Lady Terrwyn. It is late to go for a ride, is it not?”

“It is late, but I am not going for a ride, Taldred. I am afraid this is goodbye. I am leaving Edoras,” she said softly.

His face fell at this information. “You are leaving? Where will you go?”

“Perhaps Ithilien would better suit me.”

“Ithilien is so far from here,” he said as he took her hands. “I was hoping to talk to you soon, but I see I may be too late.”

“Well, it is now or never,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

“Terrwyn,” he whispered, bringing her hands to his heart. “I had hoped that . . . well if you agreed, I hoped to ask to court you properly.”

Terrwyn was shocked. This was not what she expected him to say. “Taldred, I--.”

“Please hear me out. I have always admired you. I was hoping that you would allow me this honor. I would give you a proper home and take care of your every need.”

Terrwyn knew she would break his heart, but she did not feel the same for him. “Taldred, you are a wonderful man. You are very handsome and your heart is big. There is someone out there just waiting for you to marry her, but I’m afraid it is not me. I feel there is something I need to do, somewhere else I need to be. Leaving Edoras is the hardest thing I have ever done. It is also something I must do.”

“What is it you seek, Terrwyn,” he asked confused.

“I would know what happened to my brother, Hathmund. I feel I will never truly be at peace until I find him.”

“Let me help you,” Taldred pleaded. He held her hands against his armored chest. Terrwyn looked at the white horse painted upon the metal chest plate.

“I cannot ask this of you. You are a Rohirrim and this is where you belong.” As she spoke, her fingers traced the outline of the horse. “I am not of Edoras as you are. This is my burden to bear and I would not have you leave your post or your position.”

Taldred could see that her mind was made. Nothing he could say or do would change it. “At least let me walk you to the stable.”

Terrwyn smiled and stood on her toes. She leaned towards him and kissed his cheek. “Goodbye Taldred,” she whispered sweetly.

He understood that she did not want him to follow her, though something told him he should. The young guard would respect her privacy and stay at his post. “Terrwyn, be careful. I wish you would not make this journey alone.”

“I will be very careful and I will be fine,” she answered. Then she looked up into his eyes. “Promise me you will never change.”

She was about to be on her way when a thought came to her. “There is one more thing I would have you do. Take Alric’s home. It is yours to either live in yourself or give to someone as in need as I was when I first came here.” 

Taldred merely nodded. “I can do that.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it ever so gently before he released it. Terrwyn flashed him one last infectious smile and headed off to the stables.

It was very dark this night. The streets of Edoras were empty. Terrwyn walked along with her pack flung over her shoulder. She thought she heard footsteps behind her, but when she turned to look there was no one there. She hurried her pace, always feeling like someone was following her.

Finally, she made it to the stables. It was empty as she expected it to be at this late hour. Terrwyn went to the stall that held Brannoss. He turned his head and nodded, swishing his tail as he always did when she came to visit. She went to him, picking up a brush and running it along his grey coat. He seemed sad to her and it made Terrwyn realize that Brannoss missed Alric too. Horses of Rohan shared a special bond with their owner and would know if something happened. It was obvious that this fine steed knew his rider would not be back to visit him. Terrwyn laid her head on his side, listening to his heartbeat.

“Brannoss, my friend, I know you miss him, but I will take care of you now. What do you say you and I leave this place for an adventure?”

The silver-grey horses nodded his head as if he understood and agreed. Terrwyn smiled and went to retrieve his saddle at the end of the long stable. While she was taking it down from where it hung, she thought she heard a shuffling noise at the entrance. When she looked, she saw nothing. The door was still slightly ajar. Terrwyn went back to what she was doing and entered Brannoss’ stall once more. She saddled him, checking to make sure he was comfortable. It seemed there was another noise from somewhere inside. She stopped and listened but all was silent. Maybe it was Taldred. He wanted to escort her. Maybe he followed her after all. She smiled to herself. He was such a wonderful man. Any girl would be lucky to have him as long as she loved him, as he deserved.

As Terrwyn checked the saddle and secured her pack, she heard the main door to the stable close. Then a latch sounded as if someone locked it. She smiled slightly and peered out from behind her horse. “Taldred, I told you I will be fine. You did not need to follow me here.” She waited for his response, but got none. “Taldred?” she called, but still nothing. She left Brannoss’ side to see why he did not answer her. Instead of Taldred, she found three men standing by the locked entrance. Terrwyn gasped as her heart began to pound, but she held her composure. She recognized them right away. Alric warned her about these same men.

The first thing she did was take a mental note of her surroundings. It seemed they locked the door to prevent an easy escape. Then she quickly looked over the men. One was short and stocky. He would not be very quick, but he was probably strong. The second man was tall and skinny. He did not look very smart, but was probably fairly fast. It was the third man, and the one who seemed to be their leader, that she worried about. He was built more like one of the soldiers, broad and well-muscled. He did not look like a simple thief or a ruffian like the other two.

The leader started to walk towards her, signaling to the other two to stay where they were. He eyed Terrwyn wearing a devious smile. She knew what he was here for.

Terrwyn thought of her weapons and did a mental check. She still had her dagger at her side and a throwing knife on her thigh. Her sword was already attached to the saddle along with her pack, the one carrying the jewels that the men were after. She wanted to keep them away from her belongings, so she stepped out of the stall to stand in the middle of the stable. Looking the men over, she stood her ground. “Why are you here? Your dispute was with Alric, not me, and he is gone.”

The tall man stepped forward and smiled crookedly. “You are right. Alric is gone, so now our complaint is with you.”

“With me?” Terrwyn questioned. “But I don’t even know you.”

The short fat man spoke next. “You don’t know us, but you know why we are here, don’t you? Why else would you be leaving in the middle of the night?”

Terrwyn narrowed her eyes. “I am just here to check on Alric’s horse.”

The tall man stretched his neck to peer inside the stall. “Do you always saddle up when you are just ‘checking’ on your horse?” He turned to the fat man. “I think you’re right. Looks like she’s leaving to me.”

The well-groomed muscle man shot a nasty look to each of his companions then turned back to Terrwyn. “It seems Alric’s little whore is in quite a hurry to leave. Tell me, what did he give you besides his limp cock?”

Anger surged through her. “How dare you speak to me as such. Alric was like a father to me.” She watched as the other two men circled around behind her. They were closing in on her. The situation was turning for the worse.

“No more games. We just want what is ours,” said the muscled man. “We were just waiting for him to die so we could get it back. And then you came along.” He watched Terrwyn’s hand move to her hip, and motioned to the tall man who came up and grabbed her arms. She tried to free herself, but his grip was too strong. Meanwhile, the leader took her dagger, examined it, then tossed it onto a hay bale.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I have nothing of yours. Anything I have belonged to Alric and he gave it to me when he knew he was dying,” Terrwyn argued.

The muscled man came up and stood in front of her. “What I am talking about didn’t belong to Alric either. He was hired to retrieve something for us, but he said he never found it. I know he was lying and now I think you are lying too.” He shot a look at the fat man. “Go check her pack.”

Terrwyn started to struggle free again, but to no avail. The tall man held her tight. “There is nothing of interest to you in there,” she yelled to the fat man, but he did not listen.

He untied the pack from Brannoss’ saddle and emptied its contents out onto a bale of hay. He searched through her things until he came upon a small purple pouch. “I think I found it,” he called to the leader. Then he walked over to him, handing him the small velvet bag.

“What do we have here?” the lead man said to Terrwyn.

“Alric gave that to me. Please, I need it. My brother was kidnapped years ago and I--.” She was cut off.

“Ah yes, the destruction of the Westfold, I remember well. Their protection was inadequate allowing the Haradrim to just walk right in and take what they pleased. They were looking for children you know.” The leader paused to watch Terrwyn’s reaction.

“They took my brother,” she growled. “That is why I must find him.”

“They should have taken you too. It would mean more money for me. But alas, you escaped.” Now the muscled man approached her, standing in front of Terrwyn. “You could still bring me quite a sum. You are unusually beautiful with your red hair and green eyes.” He ran a finger along the edge of the neckline of her shirt, dipping it between her breasts. “And a virgin would bring me twice as much.”

Terrwyn was much too shocked to notice his slight fumbling with her cleavage. “You were responsible for the attack on my people?” she said rather shocked. “But why? You are a man of Rohan. Why would you have dealings with Harad, our enemy?”

The lead man turned from her as if he meant to avoid answering her question. It was evident he was becoming angry and Terrwyn wished she had not asked this question. When he turned back toward her, his eyes had grown dark and dangerous. “All my life I have been told what to do and how to behave. I have been lectured in the ways of the nobles of Théoden’s court, now under King Éomer’s rule. I don’t want it and never have. Why should I spend my life under someone else’s policies when I can break off and become my own leader? I happen to know there is good trading to be made with the Haradrim. They have riches beyond compare to Rohan. My father would not listen though. Says he does not want their dirty money, but I say money is money and more money is power.”

“What importance do these jewels play then? If your father is a noble, why not use his money to open this trading post?” Terrwyn questioned.

“Foolish girl,” he said as he moved off to her side. “The jewels have everything to do with it.” He paused before he went on. “Alric must not have told you much.”

“I know he helped you take the jewels,” Terrwyn answered. “But I also know that he had a conscience and did what he thought was right, though I hardly know why you would trade them for goods. Your family is wealthy.”

 

“It is not just trading for goods. There is another side of business with the Haradrim, one in which they are willing to part with their riches easily. As I said . . .,” he paused, running his hand down her spine to her bottom and further down where it did not belong. He grabbed her crotch, squeezing it inappropriately. “They will pay good money for such an innocent beauty.”

Terrwyn struggled again, disgusted with this heathen touching her where he should not. “You mean to sell girls into slavery or prostitution. You cannot do that. It is against our laws.”

“This bag of jewels says differently. They are rare to the Haradrim and they will trade more than money for them. They will trade land that is outside of Rohan and therefore not covered by our laws.”

Terrwyn thought back to the time Alric first told her about the jewels. He had said the reason these men wanted them was so terrible he could not tell her. Curiosity got the better of her. “Where did the jewels come from?”

He laughed to himself before he went on. “You really do not know do you? Alric always was good at keeping a secret.” The well-groomed man picked up a blue jewel and held it up to her. “These belonged to a very prominent family.”

“You stole from our own people?” Terrwyn said surprised.

“No, your dear Alric did and don’t you forget it if you are thinking of going to the authorities,” the leader shot back.

Now she understood why Alric did not talk to the guards about these men harassing him. He would surely have been thrown in the prison cells for robbery. This must also be the reason he kept them and hid them away. Alric would rather risk hiding them and going to jail then see them fall into the wrong hands. If this was true, she could also be arrested for possession of stolen property. Suddenly she no longer cared about the jewels. “Take them then. Take them and leave me alone. I am leaving anyways. Just let me go,” she pleaded with them.

While the tall man held her arms behind her, the muscled man moved to face her again. He grabbed her chin and turned her head to the side. His face lowered to her neck as he took in her scent. Then he ran his tongue along her skin, letting his hands grab and squeeze her breasts. Terrwyn tensed but did not make a sound. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her fear.

The leader put the colored stones back into their pouch and tossed it to the fat man. “Put them somewhere safe.” He then nodded to the tall man, who released Terrwyn from his strong grasp. “Saddle up our horses. It’s time to go.”

Terrwyn stood there a moment while the men gathered what few things they had. Was this it? Were they going to let her go on her way? She wanted to believe it, but something told her it was not so. She could not just leave without Brannoss, and where the men stood, she would not get out through the front of the stable, which was still latched. Slowly, while the men were busy, she slipped back into the stall. She was going to grab her sword from the saddle, but it was gone. That’s when she noticed the three men whispering to each other. Obviously, they were discussing what they were going to do with her.

“What about the girl?” she heard the tall man say.

The leader spoke next. “Ah yes, well now it seems we might have found our first servant.” The leader moved to the stall where Terrwyn stood and grabbed her waist. She pushed his arms away and hit him in the chest, but he caught her by the wrists.

“I gave you the jewels. Now let me go,” Terrwyn insisted.

“You didn’t really think we would let you go did you? You know too much.” He brought his face to her neck and licked her again. His hot breath smelled of liquor and made her stomach turn in knots. “I think we can be sure she is a virgin. The old man could not get it up anyways.”

The other two men laughed, and then the fat man spoke. “I know of someone who will pay dearly for a virgin, twice for one as lovely as her.”

“That would bring in a bit of money.” As the lead man spoke, he rubbed his crotch with his hand, a bulge evident within his breeches. “Then again, she is still innocent looking enough that I think we can pass her off as such a few times before she is broken. Maybe we should all have a little taste. I’ve always wanted a virgin.”

Terrwyn panicked as they spoke of what they would do to her. The group leader pushed his groin into her hip as the other two each took one of her arms. Terrwyn’s mind was reeling, trying to think of a way out of this situation, but she was scared. Is this what would become of her? Would she allow these heathens to defile her and become another statistic of a cruel act against a woman? Not if she could help it.


	5. Escape

Chapter 5 - Escape

 

Terrwyn was trapped. The stable door was latched in a way that she could not open it before the men were upon her. They had her sword, the elvish dagger, and the pouch of jewels. All she had was the throwing knife strapped to her thigh, but there was no way of retrieving it now. The tall man and the fat man held her fast by her arms and the muscled leader’s hands were roaming over her. Though many pairs of eyes had scanned her body as this heathen’s hands did now, she had never been in this dangerous of a situation before. Alric showed her many tricks to prevent such circumstances and how to get out of them. She thought she knew what to do, but fear paralyzed her and she could hardly remember anything now. All she could think of was to scream. Maybe someone walking by outside would hear. The stables were far from the rest of the village though. Still, Terrwyn’s mind was racing, and she screamed as loudly as she could.

Instantly, the two men holding her arms tightened their grip and pulled up, twisting her arms so that the pain was unbearable. The muscled man covered her mouth and nose with his filthy hand. “Shut up, girl! No one can hear your cries anyways. Do that again and I’ll skewer you with your own sword.” As he said this, he brought up her weapon that had gone missing.

Terrwyn felt as though she would suffocate. His hungry eyes were upon her now. She had to do something to silence her fear and her mental screaming. If she did not, these men would surely have their way with her.

“Those Southrons missed out on quite a good piece when they failed to capture you,” the leader breathed into her ear.

Suddenly, she remembered what he had said earlier about being responsible for the capture of her brother and the death of her mother. It was probably because of this scum that her father perished too. This was enough to transfer Terrwyn’s fear into anger. With her mouth still covered by his hand, she could only speak with her eyes, which turned into slits as she glared at the lead man. Her body seemed to relax a bit, as well as her breathing. The man took notice and smiled a sickly grin. “Looks as if I touched on a sore subject. That’s it my pretty little whore. You are so much more alluring when you are angry. Bet you will be quite delicious too.”

An idea came to Terrwyn. She could not struggle free of her captors, but she could possibly negotiate with them, at least long enough to throw them off their guard. She tried to speak, and finally the leader removed his hand. Terrwyn took in a deep breath of air now that she could breathe freely. She calmed her nerves and got ready to put on the show of her young life. She may have only been nineteen, but she had to play the part of someone older and more experienced. Hopefully, they would fall for it.

“Alright, alright. So, you have found me out. I’ll tell you the truth now,” she said as if to admit defeat.

The three men could feel her relaxed state. The leader looked to the other two and gestured for them to let go, which they did. Terrwyn rubbed her arms and wrists trying to get the feeling back into them after being held behind her back for so long.

“Go on then. What do you know?” the leader said.  
“I knew about the jewels. I wanted them for myself. They are worth a small fortune as you say. I was just waiting for Alric to die so I could take them and get far away from this retched city. I could easily live as a noble in Gondor if I so choose. I will make a deal with you. I’ll give you half the prize. Even half will do me some good,” she said in her most calm voice. She hoped she was convincing enough.

“Half is not enough,” demanded the muscled man.

“You are a business man and a smooth talker. I’m sure you can finagle a piece of land out of the Southrons with half as much, if these jewels are worth as much as you say they are,” she argued.

The well-groomed leader stood silent for a moment, considering her offer. As he did, he noticed her eyes dart to her sword then back to him. She smiled, but the man did not fall for charms. “Do you take me for a fool? I see what you are up to.” He grabbed her by the waist just then, catching her off guard. Terrwyn gasped at his unexpected lurching. The man pushed her up against the wall of one of the stalls and brought his lips right up to hers. “I don’t believe a word you say, whore. I am done playing games. First, I’m going to have my way with you. If the other two want you, they can be next. Then you are coming with us. We’ll need something sweet for our journey and I think you will do just fine.”

His mouth plunged onto her and he forced is rotten tongue into her mouth. Terrwyn almost gaged from the feeling of his slimy tongue and the smell of liquor. One hand roughly squeezed her breast as the other roamed further down to her private region. Fear and anger mixed in her mind and she was determined not to become paralyzed again. He removed his tongue from her mouth and tried to kiss her once more, but Terrwyn bit down hard on his bottom lip. She could taste his blood as it oozed into her mouth.

The man yelled when she latched onto his lip. She would not let go so he slapped her across the face. The sting of the slap was enough to make Terrwyn release him from her hold. She almost lost consciousness and fell to her knees. The leader touched his hand to his lip and when he saw the blood, he became very angry.

“You dirty little bitch! You rotten whore, you bit me!” he yelled. He looked to the other two men. “Get her! She must be taught a lesson.”

Terrwyn was still dizzy from the slap as the tall man and the fat man once again captured her by the arms. The leader began undoing his breeches. “I’m done with this. I’m going to give you something you’ll never forget.” He approached her and the other men started to push her to the ground. They were prepared to hold her down while the leader raped her, but Terrwyn was too angry to let this happen.

Then, as if time stopped, she envisioned the dark-haired elf from her childhood. His smile and his words came back to her. Never had anyone had such confidence in her as he did in their brief meeting. She thought about his reference to the butterfly and how she would one day be transformed.

Time sped back up and the man was almost upon her. “I’ll be damned if anyone is going to take anything away from me,” she said in a low growl. She lifted her booted foot and kicked the tall man in the shin, making him release her as he yelled in pain. The fat man tried to get a better hold on her and brought his hand up. He brought it up a little too far and Terrwyn bit him hard leaving deep teeth marks and drawing blood, again filling her mouth with the metallic taste. The fat man released her too.

The muscled man lunged for her and she spit the blood in his face, temporarily blinding him. This gave her just enough time to make a dash for her elvish dagger lying on a hay bale. As she rushed towards it, someone grabbed her ankle, pulling her to the ground. The lead man held her fast. Terrwyn kicked him until he released her. By now, the tall man regained himself and grabbed her sword, which was lying on another hay bale next to where he stood. He was about to give it to the leader. Terrwyn’s quick thinking made sure that would not happen. While still lying on the ground, she reached for the throwing knife strapped to her thigh and launched it at the tall man. The blade embedded itself in his upper arm and he immediately dropped the sword. The fat man was still holding his hand that she bit, nearly tearing a big chunk from it. Seeing another chance, she crawled to the elvish dagger and barely grabbed it when the leader jumped on her.

“That’s it. You are more trouble than you are worth and you know too much. Now you die,” he said reaching for her throat to strangle her.

Terrwyn dropped the dagger and started clawing at his long dirty fingers that squeezed her neck. She could not breathe. She tried gasping for air, but the man was choking the very life from her. Everything around her began to spin. Stars were flashing behind her eyes. If she didn’t do something now, she would die for sure.

With one hand, she released his arm and blindly searched the ground around her for the dagger. Then suddenly her fingers felt something familiar. It was almost out of her reach, but she stretched with all her might and finally got hold of the wooden handle of the weapon. The only thing she could think to do was stab him in the neck. Terrwyn focused what strength she had left on her arm. With full force, she brought the blade up, burying it in the muscled man’s neck. Instantly, he released his death grip on her, and she could once again breathe. Terrwyn gasped, her windpipe seemingly crushed, but she got enough air into her lungs to keep from fainting. At the same time, the lead man rolled off her, clutching at the dagger in the side of his neck. She could see blood pouring out of the wound as he made a gurgling noise. His eyes rolled up into his head so that only the whites were showing. Soon after, he made no other move and lay still on the stable floor.

The other two men looked to their partner with surprised faces, seeming to forget about their own injuries. They could see he was not breathing, lying in a pool of blood.

“You bitch! You killed him!” the tall man said in anger.

Terrwyn could not answer. Her throat was raw and scratched. Her weapons were spent and these two looked enraged. If they came after her now, she would have no strength left to fend them off. They took a couple steps towards her when suddenly the front door of the stable started to move violently. Someone had come at last. Terrwyn tried to yell for help but she had no voice but for a whisper. While the remaining two men looked at each other fearfully, Terrwyn managed to get up, stumble to the door, and unlatch it. The door swung open just as she started to collapse. A pair of very strong and comforting arms caught her before she touched the ground. She looked up and saw Taldred holding her.

“Help . . . me!” she croaked out and then she lost consciousness.

* * *

When Terrwyn awoke, she was in the healing rooms in Edoras, and sitting next to her was Taldred. She tried to sit up but was dizzy.

“You must stay in bed,” he told her in a soft sweet voice.

“What . . . where are they?” she managed to whisper, as it seemed she could not speak.

“They are being tended to in another room,” Taldred answered her. He picked up a wet cloth and gently wiped her forehead. “Terrwyn, can you tell me what happened?”

“They attacked me, tried to rape me,” she said in a raspy dry voice.

“Just tell me one more thing,” Taldred said in a serious tone. “Is it true you were in possession of the stolen jewels?”

Terrwyn felt her heart jump to her throat. There was only one way he could have known about this. The other two men were trying to set her up. She would not lie though, not to Taldred. Tears instantly filled her eyes and fell down her cheeks. With no voice left to speak, Terrwyn merely nodded.

“Oh, Terrwyn,” Taldred said quietly and disappointment filled his face.

“I . . . I did not know. They were a gift . . . from Alric before he died,” she pleaded, but Taldred looked unconvinced. “What are they saying about me?”

Taldred sat unmoving for a moment as if he was still letting it all sink in. He sighed and answered her. “They said they found out that you were the one who stole the jewels and that you were running away. They said they were just trying to stop you.”

“No! It’s not true. Well yes, it’s true that I had the jewels, but I did not know of their history until these men told me they belonged to one of the noble families.” Terrwyn started to cry. It seemed nothing she could say would make her look innocent. “I was so scared they were going to kill me. They might have if I did not protect myself.” She paused a moment then touched Taldred’s arm. “You have to believe me. I truly did not know.”

Taldred got up from his chair and paced the room. He seemed to be in deep thought. Terrwyn watched him from her bed. She could see something was bothering him. “Taldred?” she asked, concerned.

“There is something you do not know about these jewels,” he said from across the room. "Tell me, did you know the man you . . .,” he paused. “. . . the deceased man?”

“No, I did not even know his name,” she answered worriedly.

“These jewels belonged to his family. Terrwyn, the jewels belonged to the father of the man you killed.”

This information slowly sunk in as Terrwyn lay in her bed staring at the ceiling. “He stole from his own father. But why would he do this?” Suddenly it hit her like a ton of bricks. She gasped. “They are saying I stole the jewels and laying all the blame on me to keep from confessing their own guilt.” Now she realized just how bad this all looked.

“They are the only witnesses to the crime. Terrwyn, this looks bad even if what you say is true. They say you admitted to taking them.”

Terrwyn shook her head as she wracked her brain. “No, no, no! I said those things only to get them to let me go.” She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “What does this mean, Taldred? What will happen to me?”

Taldred came to her and sat on the edge of the bed. “It means when you are well enough, you will be moved to the cells until a trial can be held. You murdered someone and not just anyone, but the son of the burglary victim.”

“I did it in self-defense,” she cried. “He was on top of me. He was pulling at my clothes. The other two were holding me. I was surely about to be raped, Taldred. Please, you have to believe me. Someone must hear me out. I did not take anything but for what Alric gave me when he died. I swear, he never told me to whom these jewels belonged. Please, you have to do something.”

Taldred looked away from her. “I must uphold the law. A man is dead who was found with your knife in his neck. There is nothing I can do. You must face trial and hope your story is believed.”

Terrwyn was in shock. She had been set up and nothing she could say or do looked like it would be in her favor. She lay back down on her bed and turned her back to Taldred. “Leave me. I want to be alone,” she whispered in a choked voice.

Taldred touched her shoulder lightly. “I am sorry, Terrwyn.” With that, he left the room.

* * *

Terrwyn spent two more days in the healing rooms. Today the guards would come to take her to the prison cells. As she sat on her bed, she wondered how her life came to this. What possibly went wrong in her young life that she deserved this? She had lost both of her parents and her brother was either missing or possibly even dead. She cared for herself at too young of an age until the kindness of a stranger came along. She had always lived by the law. This was a mistake. She was being wrongfully charged for this crime. Her life would have been over had she not defended herself. Just to save their own skin, these two thugs twisted the story in their favor. Terrwyn knew there was no way out of it. No one would believe her story. There were too many details pointing to her. Now all she could pray for was a prison sentence and not a hanging, but that was unlikely. Murder was punishable by death and surely this was her outcome.

The door slowly opened and Terrwyn waited for the guards to take her away. To her surprise, it was Taldred that came to collect her.

“Taldred, what are you doing here?” she asked.

“I requested to be the one that brought you to the cells,” he said in a hushed voice. He walked to her, took her hands in his and looked her deep in the eyes. “Terrwyn, I believe you. I do not think you have it in your heart or soul to commit such a crime.”

Terrwyn breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Taldred. At least I know there is one person who believes my story.”

He handed her a bag, shoving it into her arms. “I cannot let them lock you up. I have heard much talk. The family of the deceased wants revenge. They will stop at nothing to see you hanged. The story from the other two men puts the odds in their favor. Terrwyn, I need you to trust me now. I want to help you get as far from Rohan as you can. In this bag is a disguise, men’s clothes. Put them on when I leave. Wait a few minutes and then go get Brannoss.”

Terrwyn shook her head. “Taldred, I cannot--.”

He captured her face in his hands. “Your horse is already saddled and packed with supplies. Now listen! Take the Great West Road towards Gondor. I will be along in a few hours. You should not make this journey alone. It won’t take me long to catch up.”

Terrwyn could not believe he would do this. “I cannot ask you to risk your good name just to help me.”

Taldred smiled. “You did not ask me. I am doing this of my own free will.”

“No, I will not let you do this. What you have done already is enough to get you banished from Edoras. I must go alone. I will not have you endanger your job or your life. Please, Taldred. I beg of you. Do not follow me.”

Taldred could hear the desperation in her voice. There would be no arguing with her. “You are a stubborn woman Lady Terrwyn,” he said with a smile. “Fine then, I will not follow, but please take this.” He took from his neck a black leather cord with a silver horse charm hanging from it. Then he slipped it over her head and turned it so that the charm faced the right direction. “Anytime I felt that I needed some luck, I held this close to my heart. Wear it and think of me.”

Terrwyn touched the side of his face with her delicate fingers. “Thank you, Taldred. I will never forget you.”

Caught up in the moment, Taldred started to lean down, just wanting one kiss from her supple lips. But he stopped himself and instead took her chin in his calloused fingers. “Hurry. I will distract the guards around the doors. No one will recognize you. Now go!” With that, he left the room.

Terrwyn immediately changed into the man’s riding outfit, a pair of leather breeches, brown shirt and a tan swede jerkin, and black boots that were two sized too big. There was also a hat like the one the stable boys wore. She tied her hair up into a bun and put the hat on. She opened the door slightly and saw that the hall was empty. Saying a silent thank you to Taldred, she slipped out and quietly made her way to the stables.

Just as Taldred had said, Brannoss was saddled and ready. There was no time to check what was in the pack. The only two things she hoped she still had were her elvish dagger and the wooden butterfly. They were taken from her when she was brought to the healing house. That was not important now. All she needed to concentrate on was getting out of Edoras without being noticed. She climbed onto Brannoss, gave him a pat and with a click of her tongue, they were off. The sun was just beginning to set and soon the night would help to hide her out on the road. Now all she needed to do was follow the Great West Road, for it would lead her right to Gondor. From there though, she did not know what she would do.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Into The Night

 

Terrwyn rode into the night, but she did not go too fast. She needed to get as far away as she could, but she was still weak from her recent ordeal. The bouncing and jarring from riding a horse made her head hurt more than it already did. Brannoss also, was not used to riding so far. They both needed a break from their long journey that night. She found an area not far from the road where there was a small pond, and led her horse to it. Then she slipped down, stretched her arms and legs and took off her boots to wade in the cool water. Of course, it would have made more sense to lead Brannoss to the opposite side of the pond where a line of bushes would help camouflage him better, but they were both desperate for rest and stopped where they may. Terrwyn felt confident that no one was around to bother them.

She patted Brannoss on the neck before removing her pack. The pack, she thought. She had not had a chance to look through it before she left Rohan. Taldred said he gathered what things he thought were important to her. Now she would see for herself as she undid the buckle of the leather strap and lifted the flap. The moon was high and almost full this night, making it easier for her to see. Feeling around with her hand, she pulled out some shirts and a pair of her riding pants. It was nice to know she had some of her own clothing to wear and not just the men’s clothes she wore now.

Underneath the clothes, she could feel a number of solid items. First, was her throwing knife that she usually kept strapped to her thigh. The last time she saw this, it was sticking out of the arm of the tall man that horrible night in the stable. Terrwyn was glad to have it back. Her hand dived into the leather bag again and this time she felt something like parchment. She pulled it out and unfolded it. It was the picture of the dusty rose from her childhood book that she stowed away for safekeeping. Looking at it, she noticed some writing in the bottom left corner. ‘More beautiful than any flower, she is.’ was written in a shaky handwriting. If anything, the people of Rohan were not scholars. Whoever wrote this must have learned to write to the best of their ability and took care to make it as legible as possible. Terrwyn smiled to herself. It could have been none other than Taldred. He had always been so kind to her. Often she wondered why she could not convince her heart to care for him more deeply. He would have made a wonderful husband, so warm and loving. He was true of heart and would love her until his dying day. Was this not what she sought for in her life? Could she not find a way to love such a generous man?

As she reached into the bag once more, her fingers came upon the thing that reminded her why Taldred could never capture her heart. Small, smooth and flat on one side, rough and carved on the other, it was none other than the wooden butterfly. At that moment, she knew her heart would not settle for the love of a man, even one as worthy as Taldred. The handsome elf she met as a child had carved a place in her very soul. She had always longed to see more of these magnificent creatures, so wise and fair. Terrwyn could not say that it was this very elf that she desired to meet again, but rather a call to meet more just like him. He touched her heart deeply that day on the stairs of the Keep. Now, she would not rest until she beheld the elves with her own eyes.

Flipping the small trinket over and over in her long slim fingers, Terrwyn sighed with relief. She had thought this was gone. It was the one thing she would miss most of all, but not worth the risk of being caught. It seemed that no one touched her belongings left behind in the stable. All of these were items she packed for her journey, besides a few extra shirts that Taldred must have gotten from her home.

The one thing that wasn’t in there that she truly would have loved to have was the elvish dagger. Of course, it was a murder weapon now. What a shame to lose such a beautiful piece of elf workmanship, and the only thing that reminded her of her brother Hathmund.

Terrwyn put down the pack and walked over to a large boulder not far from where Brannoss stood. She sat down and stared up at the white moon. She wondered where her brother was, if indeed he was still alive. Was he looking up at the same moon, wondering where she was too? A voice in the back of her mind told her not to hold out too much hope of ever seeing him again. It was very possible that he was dead now, another victim of the Southrons.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet smelling summer night air, closed her eyes and choked back a tear. There was no time to ponder the whereabouts of Hathmund now. She was in no position to do anything about it. Right now, she just needed to concentrate on getting to Gondor, finding a job making an honest living and eventually finding a place to live. It all sounded easier said than done, but she was determined. It was the only way to follow through on her plans to find Hathmund. Unfortunately, it meant taking care of herself first, saving up her money and hopefully gathering enough information to know where to go in search of him first. But the main thing was to not give away much information about herself, as she was a criminal now. Life would definitely not be easy from here on out.

For now, she felt safe though. Terrwyn jumped down from the boulder, letting her bare feet sink into the pond water once more. Suddenly, Brannoss started whickering as if annoyed by something or someone.

“What is it Brannoss?” she said to her steed as she carefully made her way back to where she left her boots. She slipped them on and stood close to her horse, listening for the sound of something out of place. Brannoss stomped his front foot, a telltale sign that he sensed an intruder nearby. Terrwyn grabbed for her pack and quickly found her silver throwing knife with the horse engraving on the blade. She slipped it from its sheath and held it tight in her hand. If someone were out there, the sting of her knife would be felt before anyone knew she was here. Luckily, the moon was bright enough to cast shadows, which helped her to see movement up towards the road. Someone or something approached. Terrwyn stood next to Brannoss’ front legs and peered around his chest. A tall figure moved slowly towards the pond. She waited until the intruder was in her throwing range and then she made her move. She brought the knife up, raising her arm, bent at the elbow. The figured still moved closer. Then Brannoss snorted and the stranger stopped. This was her chance and she took it. Terrwyn released the knife, throwing it straight and true at whoever was coming towards her. Someone made a grunting noise and she thought she hit her target, but then the intruder came forward again. Brannoss was nodding his head up and down, very nervous about the situation. Terrwyn stepped out into the open and yelled to the stranger.

“I suggest you leave for I will not miss next time,” she said sternly, yet her voice was still quivering with fear. She had no other knife to throw and so this was an empty threat.

“And I suggest you make your mark the first time. You are not very good at bluffing,” said a familiar voice.

Relief washed over Terrwyn followed by confusion. “Taldred?”

He was finally close enough that she could see his handsome face. She smiled at first but then frowned just as quickly. “Are you hurt? Did I--?”

“No,” he laughed. “But there is a fallen tree now wearing your handiwork.”

“Why are you here? Did I not tell you to stay at Edoras? Taldred, if they find out that you are helping me--,” she complained.

Taldred was very tall like any of the Rohirrim soldiers. His long golden hair hung loosely, framing his face. His facial hair, which was well maintained, made him look very strong and handsome. His eyes were soft and looked down upon Terrwyn with such kindness and understanding. Here he was, risking everything that mattered to him, to see that she made it out safe. But who was she? She was a criminal, an escapee on the run. If she was caught now, she surely would be hung. Still, Taldred looked upon her with . . . well, as if with love for her. This saddened Terrwyn for she could not return these feelings.

“You should not be here,” she said angrily as he reached for her hands.

“I could not let you go on your own. It is such a long way to Gondor. Evil still lurks on the Great West Road,” Taldred said softly.

“Then you believe me? Do you believe me when I say I did not steal the jewels?” she said nearly choking back tears.

“Terrwyn, I have known you for some time now, and I do not believe you have a single corrupted bone in your body. I cannot say everything would turn out well though. With the evidence and the confession of these men, everything says you are at fault. Still, I could not, in my heart, believe a word of it.”

“But you are an accomplice now. How will you explain this?” she asked full of concern for his future.

“Not to worry, my lady. I convinced them that you escaped on my watch and that I should be the one to retrieve you.”

Terrwyn worried about this last comment. “Do you mean to bring me back to the city?”

“No,” he said in a whisper. Then he took her by the waist and pulled her to him, comforting her and reassuring her that his motives were sincere. “I am here to help you. I can take you as far as the Firien Wood. I know someone there who is a beacon-warden for Halfirien. Hopefully, he will be able to help you the rest of the way to Gondor, if that is where you wish to go.”

Terrwyn laid her head upon his armored chest. “You would do this for me? Why, Taldred? Why risk everything for me?”

Taldred touched his fingers lightly to her chin, tilting her head up to face him. “Because you are worth it and I--,” he said and paused. It was no secret that Taldred had always carried a torch for Terrwyn. Now he was not sure he would ever see her again. Did he dare tell her his true feelings?

“And I just want to help you. You are special, Terrwyn. I know you did nothing deliberately. I only wish I had gotten there before . . . well, you know.”

Terrwyn smiled as a tear ran down her cheek. “Do not blame yourself for any of this. You could not have known this would happen. I just worry for you and what will happen when you return home.”

“I will tell them that I followed you, but lost your trail and returned,” he reassured her. “The Firien Wood is not far from here. The length of time I am away should not draw suspicion, but you should not linger there long. I fear that Bregmund’s family, especially his father, will not stop searching for you.”

Terrwyn gently pushed away from Taldred and turned from him. She began to shiver at the mention of the dead man’s name. Taldred felt her change from her relaxed state. “I’m sorry, Terrwyn. I do not mean to mention him again.”

“It’s not that,” she whispered. “I never knew his name is all. Now it seems all the more real to me.”

Taldred placed his large hands on her shoulders and pulled her into him. He lowered his head, kissing the top of hers and gently nuzzling his cheek against her soft hair. “This has all been like a nightmare to you and I am sorry it happened. I know you would never have done this unless it was in self-defense. This is why I am here now. You must understand that this is a noble family. They have the money and the power to pursue this until they find you.”

“I understand,” Terrwyn said with sadness and fear. “I can never go back now. I will have to make my home elsewhere, but I cannot give up the search for my brother. I know he is out there somewhere, though I know not who or what he has become.”

Taldred released her, tilted his head up and gave a high-pitched whistle. Instantly, his horse came down from the road to join them by the pond. He walked to his deep brown equine and retrieved something from the saddle. Terrwyn watched him handle whatever it was with care as he came back to where she stood. It was rolled up in a white cloth, which he carefully unwrapped. Soon it was no longer a secret with its wooden handle, silver blade and elvish runes. It was indeed her brother’s elvish blade. Taldred smiled sincerely as he handed it to her, as if presenting it to her for the first time.

“Taldred, I,” she said stunned. “I never thought I would see it again.”

“It was not easy to get, but I knew you would want it back.” He took something else out from his saddle. “I believe you will want this also.” He handed her her sword, the one Alric gifted her. Taldred looked it over before giving it to her. “This is a very fine weapon, beautifully crafted and designed for a woman. Did you know this is in the same league as the weapons of the Shieldmaidens?”

“Like the Lady Éowyn?” Terrwyn said surprised. She had always wished to meet the fair White Lady, but by the time she came to Rohan, Éowyn had gone to Osgiliath to marry the Lord Faramir. “But this couldn’t be like one of theirs. It was a gift from Alric and he--.”

“Alric loved you as if you were his own flesh and blood. He wanted you to have the best and this sword proves that. Besides, a lady should never travel alone without her weapons.”

Terrwyn smiled to Taldred, who watched her every move. “You are a good man, Taldred, and I pray that you will one day meet the lady of your dreams.”

He handed her the sword and as he did, his fingers brushed along her arm. “I already have, but unfortunately, her dreams are of a different kind.”

Terrwyn knew he spoke of her, but she could not bring herself to look at him for fear of disappointing him again. Taldred sensed this and pulled away from touching her. His demeanor changed as to switch the subject. “Well, there is not much more of this night. I say we rest for an hour and then be on our way.”

“Is it much further to the woods from here?” she asked.

“Not far at all,” he said and turned back to his horse. “Oh, I almost forgot. I brought you some extra blankets too. Sometimes the nights can get rather chilly, even during the summer.”

Terrwyn smiled and accepted the rolled up blankets. “You have truly thought of everything.”

They made a quick camp by the pond, spreading out their blankets and sat down to rest until it was time to leave. Terrwyn searched through her pack once more, taking inventory of all her supplies. She came upon the rose drawing again and remembered the writing on it. “I noticed something written here. Do you know anything about it?” she asked, with a sly smile spread across her lips.

Taldred could not bring himself to look at her, but smiled mischievously. “I might know something about it, but I cannot say for sure. All I do know is that someone admires you very much and hopes you will not forget him.”

Terrwyn carefully tucked the parchment back into her bag. She looked at where Taldred’s hand rested on the ground and covered it with her own. “Well, he can be sure that I will never in my life forget him. He has been my friend, my strength and my support for a very long time.”

With that, Terrwyn and Taldred settled into a comfortable silence and remained that way until it was time to go. Time was wasting away and soon Taldred would need to get back to the city so not to raise suspicions. When the time came, they rolled up their blankets, secured their packs to their saddles and headed off to Firien Wood.


	7. The Firien Wood

Chapter 7 - The Firien Wood

 

Taldred was correct. It did not take them but a few hours to reach the Firien Wood. The Mering Stream bordered the oak forest. Here they stopped to refill their water skins and cool themselves from the summer heat. As they did, Terrwyn took in the scenery. It was said that this forest was once a great source of timber for men from long ago. A road was cut right through the woods so travelers could avoid the wetlands to the north. The forest itself seemed to rise to a point. This hill was known as Halifirien and was the site of the seventh and last beacon of Gondor. This was the last one lit in which Rohan would see and respond. No one had ever been known to inhabit Firien until the warning beacon of Gondor was erected high upon Halifirien’s summit. Now, only the Beacon-wardens lived there in their wooden huts upon the hill.

After a brief stop, Taldred led the way on into the forest. They went on for some time before Taldred motioned for them to stop. He cupped his hands to his mouth and made a sound like a dove or an owl. Then he looked back to Terrwyn and gave her a wink. “It won’t be long now. Someone will come down and meet us.”

“And this someone is a friend of yours?” she questioned. She was rather nervous to meet any strangers, especially so close to Edoras. They were still in Rohan, this being a part of the Eastfold, and Terrwyn was worried about Taldred’s warning of being pursued.

“He is someone I trust if that is what you mean by a friend,” Taldred answered. He could see her concern as he helped Terrwyn from her horse. “Not to worry,” he said with a kind whisper. “I am sure word has not reached outside of the city just yet. We have a head start.”

“And by we, I’m sure you mean me,” she reminded him.

They left their horses to graze on some grass and started walking uphill through the trees. Terrwyn noticed Taldred was being unusually quiet and broke the silence. “So, who is this friend of yours and how did you meet?”

“His name is Rosloch and he is a Gondorian. Does that say enough about him?” Taldred was unable to contain a small laugh. “At least that is what I tell him. Actually, we met quite a few years back. It was during the war and his family felt unsafe in Minas Tirith. Rosloch’s father was a Beacon-warden at the time. When he heard of the imposing war, he called upon Rosloch for him and his sister to come to Halfirien while he served his duty. By the end of his watch, Minas Tirith was under siege and so they came to Edoras. King Théoden and his company had already parted for the White City. Rosloch and his father joined those Rohirrim that stayed behind, just in case Edoras was attacked. That’s when I met Rosloch. He was quite a few years my elder, but we got along well enough. I guess you could say it was a clash of cultures at first, but we meant no harm. I was just a boy and could not fight, but Rosloch took me under his wing and taught me a thing or two about fighting. Eventually, he and his family went back to Minas Tirith and we lost touch for a while. Then I heard that he took his father’s place as Beacon-warden at Halfirien and came I here whenever I knew he was on duty. He is a good man and I trust him. Still, what he does not know will not hurt him, so I suggest you make no mention of your troubles.”

Terrwyn was intrigued by Taldred’s recollection of his friends’ journey. “If he is a friend of yours then he must be honorable, but I will promise not to tell my own story.”

As Terrwyn finished speaking, she heard the call of a strange bird. It didn’t register at first, but this was Taldred’s friend answering his original call. She knew that from the look of excitement on his face. “Is that him?” she asked.

“Indeed it is,” Taldred said excitedly and answered with his own strange birdcall.

Terrwyn looked around but could see Rosloch nowhere in sight. “Where is he then?”

“Look up, my lady,” Taldred answered, pointing to the trees that rose ever higher on the steep slope of the hill.

Up above, Terrwyn saw what looked like wooden houses in the trees. She had never seen anything like it before. They were small huts like those she’d seen in villages before, with walls and a roof. There were two clusters of houses, each with three adjoining huts. “He lives up there?” she said pointing to the house on the right.

Before Taldred could answer, a rope ladder unraveled and hung to the ground. “Aye, Taldred!” someone called.

Taldred looked up with a mischievous smile. “Are you going to come down, you old dog, or must we come up to find you?”

Terrwyn watched as a dark haired head popped over the side of the railing, looking down at them. She heard a muffled laugh and watched as a tall robust man flung himself over the edge of a platform and quickly climbed down the ladder. Taldred went to hold it and meet Rosloch when he reached the ground. The two men clasped arms, smiling and laughing, making jokes about how the other one looked.

“Rosloch, my friend, it has been a while. I must say, you look no different than our last meeting,” Taldred said then ruffled his friends hair. “Maybe a little older, but other than that . . .” He stopped and jumped back from a well-deserved punch in the arm by Rosloch.

“I might be able to say the same about you, but for the company you keep,” Rosloch said with a sidelong glance at Terrwyn who stood off to the side. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone off and gotten married.”

Taldred turned a couple shades darker than his already sun kissed color. “Come, my friend. There is someone I would like you to meet.”

Terrwyn watched as the two men approached her. Rosloch was definitely of Gondorian blood. He was a hearty build of a man, groomed beard and mustache, dark brown shoulder length hair, and a gleam in his eye that said he was proud of his heritage. She thought Taldred was correct about the man’s age. He seemed quite a bit older, what with a touch of grey growing in on his sideburns. He stood very tall as he strode to where Terrwyn waited, as if trying to puff himself up even more than he already had. Terrwyn adjusted her stance and stood up straight, ready for anything this ornery looking man might say to her. Being a stable mate for many years, she had grown used to the vulgar language and suggestive remarks of men, and she could dish it out about as well as she could take it.

The two men stopped right in front of her. Taldred smiled sweetly, extended his hand, palm upwards and introduced her. “Rosloch, this is Lady Terrwyn of Rohan and a very close friend of mine.” Then he moved his hand, pointing it at his friend. “Terrwyn, this is Rosloch, Beacon-warden of Halfirien.”

Terrwyn smiled slightly, though she was on her guard, and extended her hand in friendship. “It is very nice to meet you Rosloch.” She waited for the Gondorian to shake her hand properly, but instead, Rosloch took her fingers, twisting her hand and bringing it to his lips. Right before he kissed her hand, he paused and looked upon Terrwyn with sultry eyes. “The pleasure is all mine, Lady Terrwyn.” With that said, his lips brushed across the back of her hand in a most seductive way. Then he kissed it gently, lingering longer than proper. Terrwyn pulled her hand away, hoping she was not insulting him by doing so. She was not used to such forwardness and it made her slightly uncomfortable.

Rosloch felt her reserve and stood straight again, glancing to Taldred with a crooked smile and a raised brow. “She is a bit feisty isn’t she?” he said as if it had already been discussed between the men. “Are you sure there is nothing going on between . . .,” he said, pausing and making a gesture between Taldred and Terrwyn.

Again, Taldred blushed, but he smiled warmly at Terrwyn, making her feel a bit relaxed around this new person. “Terrwyn is able to hold her own, make no mistake. But if you must know, we are only friends and we come seeking your help,” he said, trying to change the subject.

“Well now, what kind of help would a Rohirrim and a beautiful lady need from an ‘old dog’ like me?” Rosloch teased.

Taldred started to speak for her, but Terrwyn felt she needed to tell her version. Besides, if she was going to be taken seriously by this Gondorian, she needed to speak up and fend for herself. Taldred would not always be there to talk for her.

“I originally hailed from the Westfold, but moved to Edoras after my father died in the war. There I remained, taking care of my ailing mother. It was a dream of hers that I make my way to Gondor and seek a nobleman to wed. As she took her last breath of life, I swore to honor her dying wishes and hopefully find some adventures of my own along the way.” This of course was a complete lie, except for coming from the Westfold, but it was necessary. Taldred made that very clear and she knew she had to hide her identity as best she could. “Taldred told me you may be of some help at escorting me to Minas Tirith, or at least as far as the land of Gondor.” She looked at Taldred, who had an expression of surprise at how quickly she came up with this story. Actually, she thought it up as she traveled along the West Road that first night of her escape.

Rosloch smiled at Terrwyn, even bowing his head with respect. It seemed Terrwyn’s idea worked and the Gondorian accepted her story as well as finding a new respect for her. “You are very much in luck. My duty here is almost over and I have been given a reprieve. I hope you are not in too much of a hurry though. Only a week I have here before I can start for home,” he said and patted Taldred on the shoulder. “Unless my handsome friend here would care to take you himself.”

“Oh, I cannot stay, I’m afraid. I was only given leave to escort Lady Terrwyn as far as Firien. I must get back to Edoras before too long,” Taldred answered quickly.

“Very well then,” Rosloch agreed. “But please stay long enough for a meal before you go on your way.” He looked down to see Terrwyn reach for Taldred’s arm, searching for comfort. “Stay until morning if that would suit you,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

Taldred started to protest, but Terrwyn took the opportunity make things seem more than they really were. She pulled on Taldred’s arm bringing him closer to her, and then laid her head on his shoulder. “Please don’t go just yet,” she begged.

Taldred took a deep breath and released it slowly through his nose. “Very well, one last meal, but then you know I must go.” It seemed sincere enough, but Terrwyn noticed his hidden message. He had to leave soon or those back in the city would become suspicious.

She smiled up at Taldred, batting her eyelashes. “Thank you, Taldred.”

* * *

Rosloch led them up the ladder to his home in the trees. He gave them each a glass of Gondorian wine, the best from his home he mentioned. Then he excused himself to head back to the ground and get their meal prepared. Terrwyn offered to help, but he insisted that the two friends spend this time with each other. “There is not much left to do, my lady. The rabbits have already been cleaned and the fire is stoked. It won’t take too long to get them roasted.”

With Rosloch gone, it left time for Terrwyn and Taldred to enjoy some nice conversation and the warmth of each other’s company. After some small talk about weather and stars, Terrwyn got up and walked to the railing, looking out over the forest. “I can’t explain it Taldred, but it is so relaxing being among the trees, especially up high like this. It is so freeing, it almost makes me forget my troubles.”

Taldred got up and went to her, standing by her side. He took in the sight of her long reddish blonde hair as a slight breeze lifted it. He caught a loose tendril in his fingers and ran them along the length of her waves. She looked so beautiful to him in this moment and he knew he would never forget the site of her as she closed her eyes and breathed in the refreshing forest air. To see her now, one would never know all the sadness and despair she had experienced lately. Unable to help himself, Taldred released her hair and brought his hand to rest upon the small of her back. Terrwyn turned her head and slowly raised her eyes to him, a shy smile upon her lips.

“What will you do first when you get to the White City?” he asked.

“I don’t know, find employment I suppose,” she answered. “I think I could manage a position as maid for a nice family. That would take care of my living quarters too.” Then she laughed. “No more nights in a stable for me.”

Taldred laughed quietly along with her. “Your story of survival has always intrigued me. Your will is undeniably strong. Never forget that. Your Rohirric blood is what makes you this way. You would have made a great Shieldmaiden.”

Terrwyn smiled to think of joining the ranks of the Shieldmaidens. They were among the most respected women in Rohan. As she pondered this, her smile faded. She would never find that respect in Rohan now. She was a wanted murderer. The thought made her stomach twist in knots again.

Taldred felt her tense and very gently, pulled her against his side. He reveled in the feel of her sleek warm body touching him. This was something he knew he would never experience again, at least with Terrwyn. And she felt very protected with him. She tried once more to reach deep into her heart, but there wasn’t anything more than friendship. It saddened her that he would have these feeling for her, which she could not return.

“Taldred, I just want to tell you how nice it has been having you as a friend. You are so wonderful to me, but I feel I don’t deserve it,” she said sadly.

“You deserve the best of everything. Listen, I know things seem desolate right now, but you will be alright. I cannot help but feel you will find everything you look for. You are so special . . . especially to me,” he said, whispering this last part.

Terrwyn turned to face him. “Taldred, you are a most handsome man, and I just know you will meet the one who deserves all of your love. It would be so easy to fall in love with you, yet . . .” She stopped herself from saying anything more.

Taldred cupped his hand over her cheek, noticing how cool her skin felt against his palm. The night air had the slightest chill to it. “It’s alright. I know you don’t feel for me the same way. I just needed you to know that you have touched my heart. A part of me will never forget you and will always . . . will always love you.”

* * *

They all sat down for their meal, which Rosloch worked hard to prepare. He watched these two from the corner of his eye. It seemed that there was some secret that they shared and he wondered what it might be. The girl mentioned marrying a noble. He thought she might already be promised to another, but fell in love with his Rohirric friend. It was a likely scenario. Now days, there were many arranged marriages, especially in Minas Tirith. The city was on the mend from centuries of decay and a kingless throne. People came from all over to live amongst the white stones under the rule of the new High King of the Reunited Kingdoms, Elessar. It would have been easy for someone as beautiful as this girl to find a husband, well off and able to give her a good life. It would also be tragic if she were in love with another. Rosloch decided that this was very likely the reason Taldred came to Firien with her. One last romance before she was gone, he thought to himself.

After some interesting conversation and an enjoyable dinner, Taldred announced that it was time for him to part. Terrwyn’s heart leapt to her throat. She really wished he didn’t have to go, but understood what it meant if he did not. Already, he jeopardized his position in the army as well as his life. The times were still dangerous, especially traveling alone. In addition, if he made it back to Edoras, he may very well be questioned and brought under suspicion after returning empty handed without her. She would forever be grateful and in debt to him for his selfless act of kindness.

Rosloch said his goodbyes to his friend. The two men clasped arms, sharing a look of understanding between them. Taldred let his eyes drop to the ground then turn to where Terrwyn stood. Rosloch knew he loved this girl and that it was breaking his heart to leave her behind.

“Take comfort knowing she is in good hands,” Rosloch said. “By the grace of the gods, I will protect her and get her to Minas Tirith.”

“I know you will,” Taldred answered. He felt deceitful by not telling Rosloch the real reason for her journey. Hopefully, they had a well enough head start and that Bregmund’s family would not search for her all the way to Gondor. “Is it possible you can leave before a week’s time has ended?”

Rosloch tilted his head, confused. “Well, only if my replacement arrives early. Why the hurry Taldred? Is there something you are not telling me?”

Taldred recollected his thoughts. “No, no. I would just like it if she got to her destination as soon as possible. She has never traveled so far and the journey will be a long one.” He did his best to sound convincing.

“If I can leave sooner then I will,” Rosloch said to ease his friend’s worried mind. He glanced over to Terrwyn. “She must be very special to you. I have never seen you in such a state before.”

Taldred’s eyes smiled before the corner of his mouth upturned. “She may never know just how special she is to me, but it was not meant to be. Her heart lies somewhere else. I do not think even Terrwyn knows where that is, but I hope Gondor will be the place where she will find it.”

Rosloch patted Taldred on the shoulder. “You are a good man.” He paused and let his eyes turn to slits as a mischievous look came upon his face. “For a Rohirrim,” he laughed. Taldred shared in his laughter, even if it was at his expense. Then Rosloch gestured for Taldred to go to her. “I think it is time you said your goodbyes.”

Taldred nodded. “Thank you, my friend. I owe you a favor now.”

“One in which I will most certainly collect on,” Rosloch said as he turned to walk away and give these two their privacy.

Taldred slowly strode over to where Terrwyn was, standing by a very tall oak and looking down the hill towards the road. He came up and stood next to her. “It will be a long ride to Minas Tirith, but I think you are prepared. Always have your weapons handy. Those who travel upon the road leave themselves open to attack.”

“I will, I promise,” Terrwyn said smiling. She turned to him, taking his hands in hers. “Thank you again, Taldred. I will pray that you get back safely and that no one suspects anything.”

“I do not think they will question me except to report on the reason you got away from me.” He laughed and lowered his head. “I may have to endure some ridicule from my fellow companions for letting a woman escape me, but it will be well worth it to know you are far from here. I will do all I can to convince them that you are gone and may not be found, but you will always have to look over your shoulder from here on out.”

“I know and I have accepted this fact. I just have no choice now. If I stayed, I would surely have been hung. At least now I will have a chance to find my lost brother.” Terrwyn lifted his hands to her face, rubbing her cheek against them. “Take care Taldred. Promise me you will not stop looking for the one you are meant to be with.”

Taldred merely nodded. He felt he could not make that promise right now. His heart was breaking to know he would never see Terrwyn again. It was a difficult thing, unrequited love, but she had been very gentle with his heart.

“You had better be on your way,” Terrwyn said, worried for him. She released his hands and watched as he picked up his pack.

Taldred stopped and looked her deep in the eyes. “If I could ask but for one thing before we part . . .,” he paused, unable to go on.

“You have been so kind to me, I feel that I could not turn down anything you ask for,” she said with her most sincere and lovely voice.

“If I may . . . I would only ask for one kiss from you,” he whispered.

Terrwyn felt herself blush. “I have never shared in a kiss before,” she said nervously. “But I would very much like for my first kiss to be with you, Taldred.”

He moved to Terrwyn so that they felt the heat of each other’s bodies. His hands cupped her cheeks, tilting her face so that she was looking up into his brown eyes. He slowly lowered his head and watched as she closed hers, waiting for him to touch her lips. He was only a hairs width away from kissing her when he paused and spoke. “I love you, Terrwyn,” he whispered then captured her lips. It was very sweet and innocent at first. He pulled away, but only for a moment before kissing her again. This time Terrwyn responded by moving her lips with his. Taldred could not resist. He brushed his tongue across her lips asking for entry to her mouth. Terrwyn allowed him this as she parted her lips. His tongue was soft and warm in her mouth. Instinctively, she copied his movements and swirled her own tongue around his. She had always wondered what this felt like, and now she knew. It was a most wonderful sensation, but just as soon as it started, it was over. Taldred pulled away, letting his eyes focus on hers once more. Neither one spoke another word. Taldred merely smiled with a warmth that Terrwyn would never forget. He touched the side of her face again, tucking a strand of reddish blond hair behind her ear. Then he nodded and turned to walk downhill to the road. Terrwyn did not move, but watched him until he mounted his horse and started back towards Edoras. Just before he was out of her line of sight, he paused, looking back to where she stood, and then he was gone.

Terrwyn never felt as alone as she did that moment. Her last sense of security was gone. She was truly on her own now. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly while turning to go back to Rosloch’s hut. This was it. This was the first step into her new life, one she was completely unsure of. It was a rough start and where she would end up could not be determined. Terrwyn would always be on her guard with a murder charge hanging over her head, and unrested without the knowledge of her brothers’ whereabouts. There was a lot to learn about the world outside of Rohan, but she was ready for it. Now started the real journey for Terrwyn.


	8. Traveling Partners

Chapter 8 - Traveling Partners

 

Taldred was well on his way back to Rohan, leaving Terrwyn on her own in the Firien wood with her new escort. As they waited for the next beacon-warden to show, she spent the next few days getting to know Rosloch better. Actually, she found him to be quite entertaining and a very good storyteller. He told her a lot about Minas Tirith, which she knew she would never remember. He knew all about every king and every steward that ever sat on its throne. He had a wealth of information and was very willing to share it.

“And do you know why this place is also known as the Whispering Wood?” he asked one evening as they sat next to the fire after a satisfying meal of roasted quail.

“No, do tell me Rosloch,” she answered curiously.

“This is one of the quietest places you will ever know. The trees are very thick growing in places, especially closer to the Mering Stream. To speak in your normal voice would sound like yelling, and so people whisper. It is as if the whole world can hear your voice.”

“Well, I find the Firien Wood to be a very enchanting place. There is a feeling of such solitude here, as if no one would ever find you should you desire to just disappear,” Terrwyn said dreamily.

“You sound as if this is something you desire for yourself, my lady.”

“Haven’t we all wished for such reclusiveness at some point in our lives?” she answered carefully. Terrwyn knew Rosloch was fishing for information.

Rosloch knew she would say no more. “Perhaps you are right, and perhaps some seek it more than others,” he said accusingly.

Terrwyn stared into the fire letting her thoughts consume her. Solitude . . . It was something she only had for a brief time in her young life. She knew there would be no more silence for her now. She took a life, spilled blood. That was something that could never be taken back. A man was dead because of her. It was self-defense, yes, but this man’s blood would be on her hands for the rest of her life. Terrwyn knew she would pay dearly for her sin. She could never tell a soul what happened that night in the stable. Yet somehow, she knew they would never stop searching for her. Taldred was right. She would always be looking over her shoulder. Running away made matters worse, but staying would have meant execution. Her life was no longer her own. There was only one thing she wanted, and that was to find her brother. Had it not been for that, she may not have run away. She would have stayed and fought for her innocence. Terrwyn was the only one who could help Hathmund. Others told her it was folly, that he was probably long dead by now. She could not accept that. Something deep down told her he was still alive, alone, confused, and only she could help him.

Terrwyn came out of her thoughts. “Although these woods bring me peace, I can stand the silence no more. I need to get to Minas Tirith. I hope that we will leave soon.”

Rosloch sighed. Whatever this girl was hiding, she would not reveal it. “It should be no later than tomorrow, my lady.”

Terrwyn got up, staring into the fire once more. “Good,” she said in reply before she climbed easily up the rope ladder to her bed. It was time to stop grieving for what she could not have and face her uncertain future.

* * *

Just as Rosloch said, his replacement showed early the next morning. Terrwyn had just woken up and was cleaning her face, using water from a barrel reserved for washing. She heard the distant whistle, which she now recognized as a signal. Rosloch shot down the rope ladder and went to meet the man. Terrwyn patted her face with a clean towel and watched the exchange.

“Milcano, it is good to see you are well on this fine morning,” Rosloch said grasping the other man’s arm.

The man copied Rosloch’s actions and smiled. “Rosloch, my friend, you look no worse for wear. I imagine you will be glad to get back home for a while.” As he finished speaking, his sight fell upon Terrwyn at the wash barrel, wearing no more than her tan riding breeches and the oversized white man’s shirt she had worn the night of her escape. She pretended to wipe her face, but she was really eavesdropping on their conversation.

Milcano raised an eyebrow as he examined the beautiful young woman. “Well now, I did not expect you to have company,” he said curiously.

Rosloch looked over his shoulder to Terrwyn, then back to Milcano. “Yes well, it was unexpected to me also.”

Terrwyn did not much like the accusatory tone in Milcano’s voice. She put the towel down and looked to the man. He was tall and broad in the shoulders like Rosloch. His hair was wavy and a lighter shade of brown than her escorts, and he had the same well-groomed mustache and beard. His eyes were what gave him away though. They were dark and looked upon Terrwyn greedily. She was beginning to wonder if all men looked at her like this. She had seen it when she met Rosloch too, though it dissipated after getting to know him. Even her sweet Taldred had looked upon her with desire, but there was love behind his eyes. Milcano, on the other hand, had eyes as dark as night and she felt a simmering hunger for something she would never freely offer any man like him.

Milcano’s eyes roamed along the length of her body before meeting her gaze. “And a very fine company you keep, my friend. You should be careful that the warden captain does not catch word of this. You are supposed to be on watch, not having a roll in the leaves with this lady of the evening,” he said with a sickening smile.

“I am no harlot, sir,” Terrwyn said sternly as she approached the men. Her eyes were merely slits as she glared at Milcano. “I am only passing through and your friend here has agreed to escort me to the White City.”

Milcano took the last few steps towards her until he was only inches away. “Should it have been my watch you came upon, I can promise you that we would have not wasted a single moment--.”

“That’s enough my friend,” Rosloch interrupted as he watched Terrwyn’s hand go to the small knife at her side. “I’ll have you know the lady is well armed.”

Milcano smiled crookedly. “Feisty, I like that in my women,” he whispered before stepping away.

Terrwyn ignored his last comment and turned to Rosloch. She was none too impressed with this brash man. “I am going to pack the last of my things. I expect we shall be leaving soon,” she said and glared once more at Milcano. “And none too soon at that,” she finished and then headed to the rope ladder, climbing it with unusual agility.

* * *

Terrwyn and Rosloch headed off with no further incidents. They rode silently for most of the day as Milcano’s flippant comments still had her fuming. She couldn’t help but wonder if this kind of disrespectful behavior was what she would find in Minas Tirith, and made a mental note to ask Rosloch about it when they stopped.

The Great West Road was making for dusty travel. Being summer, there hadn’t been much rain lately. Luckily, it was still early enough in the season that the days were tolerable. The deadly heat of the peak of the season was still a couple months away. Terrwyn thought it was very pleasant weather and it helped to calm her nerves. However, Milcano had warned them that there had been some attacks upon the road. It was enough that she had to worry about her recent past catching up to her without the threat of thieves too.

Finally, they stopped to rest and let their horses drink and graze. Rosloch climbed down from his horse first and went to help Terrwyn down. She gave him a friendly smile and accepted his hand. They led the horses to a small stream not far from the road. Terrwyn took the time to remove her boots and wade into the cool water. She sighed, feeling as if she were making a connection with nature. Water always seemed to relax her the most.

Rosloch watched her. She seemed so much different from any woman he’d ever met. At times, she seemed so carefree, but then she could easily shut herself off from everyone in the drop of a hat. Maybe this was just the way the Rohirrim women behaved, but something told him it was just how Terrwyn was. He was very curious to know about her past and just what it was that she sought in Gondor.

“You shouldn’t let your guard down too much,” he reminded her.

“After all that I have been through, I think I deserve a small reprieve,” she answered with a slight smile. The water was doing its job.

“You are a very intriguing woman, Lady Terrwyn, and I find it hard to believe that you could have such a past.”

Terrwyn’s smile disappeared. “My past is my own, but it is behind me now. There are some things I wish I could go back and change, but I can’t, so I move on.”

Rosloch laughed to himself. “Fine then, keep your secrets. I just want you to know that if you should ever feel the need to talk--.”

Terrwyn turned to him and with a forced smile. “There is nothing more to talk about, Rosloch. I honestly appreciate your concern, but I do not wish to share these things with you. Besides, I have had time to think about it and deal with it in my own way. Minas Tirith will be a fresh start for me, as long as all Gondorian men are not like Milcano.”

“Ah yes, Milcano is not your typical Gondorian. He is a bit bold at times, but he is harmless.”

“Any man that accuses a lady of prostitution is not harmless,” she said in a more serious tone.

Rosloch could see that she was becoming agitated and decided to change the subject quickly. “Well, at least it seems the weather is cooperating.”

Neither one spoke for a while after that. Rosloch filled their water skins while Terrwyn strolled along the small stream. She picked up a smooth stone and rubbed her thumb over it. Something her father taught her came to mind. He often kept a river stone in his pocket. When he was anxious or worried he took in out and held it secretly in his palm. Running his finger over its slick surface seemed to calm him. Terrwyn did this now. It was the perfect size stone and her thumb ran over it with ease. Her father was right, it was relaxing, but not from rubbing the stone alone. Terrwyn felt better connected when she was surrounded by nature, or just holding it in her hand. She felt her nerves calm as she had been on alert ever since leaving Firien Wood. She did not want to come across as unapproachable to Rosloch either. He had been very kind to her and she was beginning to understand him better. It was still a long journey to Minas Tirith and she didn’t want to be awkward company.

“So tell me, what is the White City like? What are its people like?” she asked to start a conversation.

Rosloch smiled as he conjured up a vision in his mind. “Oh my lady, it is a city of grand scale, carved from the mountain itself. Seven levels it has, brick roads winding through each one. There are shops of every kind on every level. You’ll never be without again. Now as for the people, well . . . since the new King has opened the gates, there is quite a mixture, a melting pot of people from all walks of life. Most are good people just looking for a better life than the one they had before, but there are those who would take advantage, especially one as young and pretty as you, my lady. I should advise you to be aware of this until you learn your way around. Have you given any thought as to what you will do once you get there?”

“Well, I know I must find housing and I’m quite experienced as a maid, taking care of Al --,” she stopped, almost giving away too much information about herself. “. . . taking care of my mother,” she corrected, keeping up with her lie. Rosloch did not seem to notice the near slip.

“You might do good to find employment with a family that needs such services,” he said.

“That is what I thought of doing. It would take care of my room and board. Still, I am a stranger in their city. I may not be accepted as quickly.”

Rosloch nodded. “That may pose as a slight problem. It may take some time before you find a family willing to accept an outsider. Gondorians are still a suspicious people, though we are learning.” He finished filling the last water skin and stood up to look at Terrwyn. “I hope I am not being too forward, but you are welcome to stay with me until you get on your own.”

Terrwyn looked at him with suspicion. “I am not sure that is such a good idea, a man and a woman sharing quarters who are not betrothed.”

Rosloch laughed. “I guess I never mentioned that my sister lives with me. Actually, I am not there often. When I am not on duty at Halfirien, I am a gate guard in Minas Tirith. My sister complains that she never sees me, but this is just the way it is.” Rosloch smiled, looking back down at the trickling water. “Quite frankly, I think you will get along very well with her and she could show you around the city until you are ready to look for employment.”

“You would do this for me?” she said surprised.

“Why of course, Lady Terrwyn. I wouldn’t give it a second thought.” He wiped his hand on his pant leg then held it out to her as if they made some sort of agreement. Terrwyn remembered the first time they shook hands, when he kissed her hand and she pulled away abruptly. She looked at him for a moment, and then took his hand. This time he shook it properly, no kiss. He smiled and laughed. “Well now, looks like we have an accord.”

“I promise not to stay longer than needed. I do not want to be a burden to you or your sister.”

“You are welcome to stay as long as you like, my lady, and I think my sister will be thrilled,” Rosloch answered.

“What is her name, if I may ask?”

A look of serenity and love washed over Rosloch’s face as he spoke of his sister. “She was named after my mother, who had the most beautiful singing voice. Her name is Lindiel and, just like our dear mother, she sings as sweetly as any bird in the forest of Firien.”

Terrwyn smiled, swirling her toes in the cool refreshing water one last time. “She sounds very lovely and I am excited to meet her.”

“I believe you two will get along quite nicely, and it will keep her out of my business.”

“How so?” Terrwyn asked.

“Lindiel is constantly trying to find me a wife. She thinks I should have married a while ago and started a family by now. To tell you the truth, I am fine with the way things are,” Rosloch answered, putting the corks back into the water skins.

Terrwyn smiled. “Actually, I am surprised myself to find that you are not married by now. You are quite handsome. I’m sure there are many women who would willingly become your wife.”

Rosloch gazed at Terrwyn for a moment. So, she thought he was handsome. It boosted his confidence to hear here say this. She was a very beautiful young woman and being a man in his early forties, he did not think someone like her would find him handsome.

Rosloch handed Terrwyn her filled skin. “Well, there have been plenty of women wanting the chance, but none that I found acceptable.”

She laughed slightly. “I guess I could say the same thing about not being married. I am nineteen and should have children by now, but I have not found my soul mate yet. You cannot rush love, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I could not agree more, my lady,” Rosloch said, holding his arm out to her. “Well now, shall we be on our way? It is still far to Minas Tirith.”

“I am ready,” Terrwyn answered, taking his arm and allowing him to lead her back to their horses. Rosloch helped her onto Brannoss and then leapt upon his ride. While he adjusted in the saddle, Terrwyn spoke. “I am sorry if I ever doubted you, Rosloch. You are a very kind and worthy escort, and I am proud to call you my friend.”

“Well thank you, Lady Terrwyn, and I consider you the same. I have no doubt you will find whatever it is you are looking for in Gondor,” Rosloch answered. He made a clicking noise with his tongue to start his horse walking back to the road. Brannoss followed behind, and they were once again on their way.


	9. Shadow Man

Terrwyn and Rosloch had traveled many days now. They were within an hour of entering the land of Gondor and only a couple days from Minas Tirith. Terrwyn thought the air smelled different and the land looked quite lush. She felt the excitement of seeing something new and could not wait to get to the City.

Today they traveled as far as they could, riding into the night longer than usual. They were both anxious to end their long journey and return to city life. As they got closer to Minas Tirith, they talked about what they would do first. Rosloch, being a man, looked forward to visiting his favorite haunt, a tavern on the third level. There he would meet with friends he hadn’t seen in a long while. Terrwyn only wanted a bath in a tub of warm water with lavender soap and rose scented oils. They both realized they missed the little things most.

The night was late and they stopped at a small patch of forest that lined the left side of the road. Rosloch felt they were quite safe here, being just inside the border of Gondor so they left their horses at the edge of the wood while they traveled into the forest a little ways. There they found a small clearing between the slim pines. Terrwyn helped Rosloch gather firewood and soon he had a small fire going. Then he picked up his bow and went to find food for their supper.

“Now, do you remember the whistle I taught you?” he asked. This was something he did to pass their long days of travel.

Terrwyn touched her thumb and middle finger together and brought them to her mouth. She took a deep breath and blew. Her whistle sounded like a birdcall. “How was that?” she asked.

“Perfect,” Rosloch answered. “Now remember that, for if ever you should need me, I will recognize your call. I’ll be back in a bit. Keep that fire going. I’m pretty sure the hunting will be abundant in this area.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll get the camp set up while you’re gone,” she said, and Rosloch darted off deeper into the woods.

First thing she did was spread out their bedrolls. She paused a moment, wondering if she should put them together or one on each side of the fire. She decided to put them in an L shape with their heads next to each other. The night was already getting late and she was sure whatever Rosloch caught would be small so that it cooked quicker. They were both exhausted from their journey and took sleep whenever they could.

Terrwyn pushed the glowing logs with a large stick and then added more wood to the fire. She found just the right size and shape sticks to make a spit for roasting Rosloch’s catch. Then she poured water from her skin into a small pot they used for boiling. Along the way, Terrwyn collected leaves from plants she knew would make a tasty drink. It would help warm them as the nights tended to get a little cold, even in the summer.

When everything was ready, Terrwyn sat down on her bedroll. She grabbed her pack and started rummaging around for her hairbrush. Along with the brush, she took out the wooden butterfly and the book page with the rose and Taldred’s handwriting. She sat her prized possessions on the ground in front of her, looking at them while she brushed her long reddish blonde hair. It had gotten quite long lately, all the way down to the small of her back, and it was becoming a chore to brush out the tangles. Perhaps she would have it cut shorter when she got to Minas Tirith. That way it would be more manageable.

As she brushed her hair, she smiled down at her belongings. She hoped all was well for Taldred. It was a very dangerous thing for him to see her to Firien Wood. If the guards did not believe his story, he could be tried and possibly executed for helping with her escape. However, King Éomer was quite fair and she hoped, if Taldred was tried, it would not come to that. Still, Taldred was very good at convincing people he was telling the truth. She tried not to worry too much about it.

Terrwyn finished brushing her hair and placed the brush back in her pack. Next, she carefully folded the parchment and tucked it into her bag. Then she picked up the wooden butterfly, flipping it in her fingers and feeling its unique design. She smiled to herself as she thought about the elf from so long ago. She couldn’t help but wonder what ever became of him. He was probably back in his forest homeland, climbing the trees and singing about pretty maidens and lordly legends. The thought relaxed her and kept her mind off her troubles.

She was just about to put the wooden trinket back into her pack when there was a rustle of branches. Looking up, she saw Rosloch stepping into the glade. Terrwyn smiled. “There you are. I hope the hunting was good. I kept the fire--.”

“Terrwyn!” Rosloch said in a desperate whisper. The look on his face was one of fear and concern. This confused her.

“Rosloch, what is the matter?” she said, getting to her feet.

His line of sight shifted from Terrwyn to somewhere just past her. Instantly, the hair on the back of her neck stood straight up. She was about to turn when she was grabbed from behind. She let out a gasp and started to struggle, knowing this was her only chance to retrieve her throwing knife that was attached to her thigh. There were two dark skinned men, each holding one of her arms. They had a strong grip on her and she could not get her weapon. She started to struggle even more and yelled.

“Terrwyn please don’t make things worse. Just give them what they want and I think they will be on their way,” Rosloch said to try to calm her. “I think they are just thieves and will leave us once they have what they want.”

Terrwyn looked at Rosloch and wondered why he was just standing there. Why wasn’t he coming to help her? That’s when she saw another dark skinned man step out from behind Rosloch. They must have captured him in the woods and made him bring them to their campsite. 

Suddenly, the two men holding her started speaking to each other in a strange tongue. “Rosloch, do you know what they are saying?”

Rosloch shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I think they are speaking the language of the Haradrim, but I know not their words.

Terrwyn froze in her spot as she tried to understand what they were saying. She didn’t recognize a single word, but their tone was familiar. They started speaking in hushed voices, laughing under their breath. This was not good, she thought to herself. Then, the man on her right ran a finger up her arm, over her shoulder and along her neck. His fingers then entwined themselves in her long freshly brushed hair. He made a moaning noise and Terrwyn knew what he was thinking.

Rosloch watched the scene play out in front of him, helpless to do anything but yell. “Get your filthy hands off of her,” he demanded, whether they understood him or not.

The other dark man on Terrwyn’s left laughed and lifted her hair from her shoulder and away from her ear. He ran his tongue along the outer edge. Terrwyn closed her eyes and made a face as if his touch burned her.

Rosloch was getting angry. “Hey!” he yelled and started to lunge forward, but the third man behind him caught Rosloch and quickly pulled a knife out, holding it to his neck. Rosloch stopped before anything worse happened, but he didn’t stop yelling. “Leave her alone. Take to your thieving and be gone.”

The two men that held Terrwyn laughed again and started pulling her along with them out of the glade and towards the trees. She struggled knowing what these two had in mind. They were not only looking for treasure, they were going to have their way with her. She knew they would kill her and Rosloch too, then raid their belongings and leave them to rot. Terrwyn’s mind flashed back to when she was a child and the Haradrim attacked her village. She had seen the devastation these cruel men could inflict. They would show no mercy. She knew there was no talking her way out of this. They already had their minds made up as to what they wanted and what they were going to do.

Rosloch could stand it no more. “Terrwyn!” he yelled, making the two men stop and look back. His loud outcry seemed to throw his own captor off guard just long enough for Rosloch to grab the man’s arm that held the knife. The two men struggled and fell to the ground. Fists were flying and it seemed to Terrwyn that Rosloch had the upper hand. The two men holding her took this opportunity to hurry her along into the woods while the Gondorian and the third man were distracted.

“Rosloch, help!” she screamed just before one of the men stuck a cloth into her mouth. She struggled against her captors, unaware that she dropped her elven trinket in the dirt. As the men attempted to gain complete control over her, they kicked up the dirt, burying the butterfly.

Now the dark men had Terrwyn to themselves in the forest. She could still hear Rosloch fighting with the third man. The sound of metal clashing told her that he managed to gain a weapon, but so did his attacker. She could no longer yell as she was gagged. The first man pushed her up against a tree while the second man held her arms behind the rough pine trunk. They were talking to each other in their own language, laughing and eyeing her body. Occasionally she could her Rosloch yell her name, trying to find out which way she had gone. Then someone yelled out in pain. She could hear the thump of a body falling in the dirt and hoped it was not Rosloch. The dark man in front of her grabbed her shirt and ripped it, exposing her breasts. The metal horse medallion that Taldred gave her hung around her neck. He observed it a moment and scowled at the symbol of Rohan. He said something to the other man, who made a disgusted face and spit on the ground. Then the man in front of her began fondling her body with greedy hands. She tried to scream, but only a muffled cry came out, barely loud enough for the two dark skinned men to hear. Off to her right, she heard leaves rustling and sticks breaking beneath someone’s feet. Terrwyn looked through her tear-stained eyes and saw that it was indeed Rosloch that came to her aid. He must have bested the other man.

The scene Rosloch came upon made his blood boil. Without thinking, he advanced upon the two men holding Terrwyn captive. “Release the girl. You will both die before I let anything happen to her,” he yelled.

The man in front of Terrwyn spun on his heel, eyes glaring at Rosloch. He calmly said something in his dark language then laughed. Rosloch watched as the man behind Terrwyn held a long knife against her throat.

“You . . . no move!” the first man yelled. “Girl’s mine!”

Rosloch took a step towards them and the knife was pushed harder against her skin. He froze in his spot, hearing a muffled cry coming from Terrwyn. When the men were sure he would not interfere, the first man went back to touching her. She wriggled and the knife cut her flesh. Tears streaked her face and all Rosloch could do was watch. If he tried anything, they would slash her throat. His mind quickly came up with a new strategy.

The two dark skinned men were laughing as the first one groped her naked chest. Just when it seemed nothing could be done, there was a call from deeper in the forest where the ground gently inclined. The two men assaulting Terrwyn seemed not to hear. Then the call came again, a foreign demanding voice. The men stopped and looked up to the top of the small hill.

Terrwyn opened her eyes and turned her head to see who this new intruder was. Up the tree covered hill stood the silhouette of another man. She could not see any of his features since he was covered in shadow. It sounded like he spoke the same language, but with more authority. Now she worried that this was their leader and that he wanted her for himself. The shadow man did not advance though. He only stood there at the top of the hill, barking orders. The groping man seemed to argue with the newcomer. He was answered with some kind of strict demand and backed away from Terrwyn. The second man standing behind her tightened his grip on her wrists, the rough bark digging into her skin. She whimpered out a cry from behind her gag. Shadow man said something and dark man holding her captive fingered the medallion hanging around her neck. Then he answered calmly and released her. Instantly she pulled the cloth from her mouth and ran to Rosloch who was still at the edge of the tree line, afraid to move for fear of them injuring her. He captured her in his arms and held her while she cried into his chest. Rosloch never took his eyes from the shadow man. It was dark and he could not tell if the new man had a weapon. Shadow man yelled once more in his bitter language and the two intruders trotted up the hill to join him. They stopped a moment and then went on their way, but Shadow man stood still, looking down to where Terrwyn and Rosloch stood. She glanced back once more to see who he was, but it was still too dark. All she could tell was that he was a tall man, well built, a leader for sure. His hair was not as long as the others were. After another brief moment of the shadow man observing Terrwyn, he too darted off further into the woods and disappeared.

Terrwyn was finally able to speak between sobs. “The other man, where is he?” she said desperately.

“Dead,” Rosloch said. He gestured with a nod, looking up the hill. “That man, he looked at you as if he recognized you.”

“I know no one of their race. They are cowards. They killed my family and kidnapped my brother,” she said angrily, forgetting what she was saying.

“You said your father died in the war and your mother died of illness. You never mentioned having a brother,” Rosloch said.

Terrwyn, being frightened and angry, suddenly realized what she had just admitted. She remained silent, still shaking from her ordeal. “All Southrons must die,” she whispered.

Rosloch looked back up the hill. He was confused by this new information and by the shadow man who released them. “Well, if it wasn’t for that Southron we might very well be dead.” Rosloch looked down, seeing that Terrwyn was still exposed and pulled her torn shirt across her chest. As he did, he noticed her necklace. “He seemed interested in this too,” he said gesturing to the medallion.

“It is the symbol of Rohan. Taldred gave this to me, for luck.”

“Well, it seemed to work. You had better hang on to that piece. We may still need it,” Rosloch said looking around the area. They were not safe where they were. “Come. We cannot stay here. He might change his mind and come back to finish the job. We ride until we get to the City. In the meantime, you can tell me what is really going on and how it came to be that the Haradrim took your family. I always knew there was more to your story.”

They got back to their campsite, quickly packed up their things and headed for the horses. However, in all the excitement, Terrwyn forgot about her little butterfly and would not think about it for a long while. There it lay, forgotten and buried in the dirt next to the extinguished fire. It seemed like a small price to pay to insure Terrwyn and Rosloch’s safety. Therefore, without any further hesitation, they were on their way, riding out under a starlit sky, but at a quicker pace.


	10. Finding Home Again

Chapter 10 - Finding Home Again

 

The experience in the woods left Terrwyn shaken. She hardly said a word to Rosloch during the last stretch of their journey. If he asked her a question, she only gave quick one-word answers. She was avoiding him, knowing he would want to know more about the confession of what really happened to her family. Although Rosloch had been helpful and a good friend, she did not know him as well as she would like. Being wanted for the murder of a nobleman’s son made her cautious to everyone. Rosloch may not understand what she did and why she did it. If Bregmund’s family put a bounty on her head, it may mean the difference between friend and reward. Times were tough as many people and lands healed from recent wars. Suspicions ran high, especially in Gondor. At least this was what she had been told. Terrwyn would not put it past anyone to turn her into the authorities just to make their pockets a little fuller.

After riding single file for some time, Rosloch urged his horse forward and came up next to Terrwyn and Brannoss. He looked to her, but she only stared straight ahead at the long road. He made a noise as if to clear his throat, but still she gave him no heed.

“Are you going to continue to ignore me?” he asked with a smile.

“I am not ignoring you, Rosloch. I am still a bit unnerved from our mishap. Those men were going to . . .” She stopped, unable to continue with her thoughts.

“I know very well what they were going to do,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “Terrwyn, you know I would not have let them hurt you.”

Terrwyn finally turned to him, looking him in the eye for the first time since the attack. “I know Rosloch, but we were outnumbered. You could have been killed.”

“I would die fighting for your honor before I’d let them harm you. I know we have only met recently, but I feel very protective of you. I would do for you the same things I would do for my sister,” he answered.

Terrwyn knew Rosloch was being honest, which was why she finally opened up to him, telling him about her life before moving to Edoras. She told him about growing up in the Westfold, her father dying while on duty, traveling to Helm’s Deep as a child and meeting the dark haired elf. She told him about the destruction of her village and losing her mother, her brother’s disappearance, and getting by on her own in Edoras. She mentioned Alric and how he became her family when all hope seemed to be gone. Then she stopped and rode silently for a while, Rosloch riding next to her.

“Why did you feel the need to make up your story of taking care of your mother? I don’t understand why you felt you had to hide your past,” he finally said, breaking the silence.

“Because, Rosloch . . .” She paused and thought about what she was doing. “I came into some misfortune, after Alric passed. It wasn’t my fault, honestly. I was protecting myself. But tales were told and the truth was twisted in such a way that I was no longer seen as the victim.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Rosloch said softly and full of concern. “What happened to you in Edoras, Terrwyn? Please tell me. Maybe I can help you.”

“You cannot. No one can.” Terrwyn pulled on Brannoss’ reins, bringing him to a stop. Rosloch turned his horse so they were facing each other. Terrwyn merely stared down at her horse’s mane. “I am a fugitive, an escapee under the laws of Rohan.”

Rosloch was silent for a moment. Somehow he found this hard to believe. “You? An outlaw? Impossible!” he said disbelievingly.

“I would not make something like this up.” Terrwyn lifted her eyes to look at Rosloch. “Maybe I am making a mistake. If I am followed and you are discovered helping me, you may be held accountable for aiding a criminal. Already I have endangered Taldred’s life. I do not want to bring anyone else into my troubled life.”

Rosloch couldn’t imagine her doing anything so horrid that she would be a wanted fugitive. Yet, the look on her face was one of desperation. He moved his horse as close to hers a possible and reached for her hand. “We have come this far. I will not abandon you now. I promised to help get you to the City and I mean to do just that. You will stay with my sister and I until you find employment. In the meantime, we must keep your secret, though I can’t believe that you could do anything that would bring such hardship into your life.”

Terrwyn felt some relief. She trusted Rosloch and heeded his words. “Thank you Rosloch. It is good to know there is at least one person I can trust.”

“There is just one more thing I would like to know,” he said. Terrwyn nodded and he continued. “What of your brother? You said he was kidnapped by the Southrons. Do you know anything about his disappearance?”

“Everyone I have spoken to thinks he is dead by now, but I cannot believe that. If I were the one taken away, I know Hathmund would never stop looking for me. I intend to do the same, but I have no means of searching now. I will not give up. I will find him somehow. I have to. I must know the truth.”

Rosloch bowed his head. “You are quite determined, my lady, and I hope you find your brother so as to ease your mind.”

They turned towards their projected path once more and rode on to Minas Tirith. Rosloch developed a need to protect Terrwyn. Somehow, he knew she would need all the help she could get, and that included searching for her lost brother.

* * *

The White City was now coming into view. Terrwyn’s mouth hung open. It was as tall as the mountain itself, seven levels and at the top a spire that jetted out. The architecture was beautiful to behold. It was the biggest and mightiest fortress she had ever seen. It was a city that reached for the heavens instead of being spread out along the land. It was no wonder the enemy lost in the war. How could they ever think they could bring down such a stronghold as Minas Tirith? “Rosloch, I never could have imagined anything so immense,” she said, holding her hand over her eyes to shield the sun.

Rosloch just smiled. He was a proud Gondorian and loved his home. To see the awe on Terrwyn’s expression made his heart soar. “It was the most grand city of them all, save for the elven cities.”

To the left, she could see areas of the lower levels that still seemed war torn. “Is that from the Ring War?”

“Yes, my lady. Although most of the city has been renewed, there are still a few areas under maintenance. Soon, it will all be as good as new. Not only men, but dwarves and elves have leant their expertise in the rebuilding.”

Terrwyn gasped. “Will we see elves?” she said excitedly.

“I’m sure there will be a few, though not as many visit as they used to. Most have moved on to Ithilien,” Rosloch informed her.

“I have heard of Ithilien, but I didn’t know elves lived there.”

“Oh why yes, a colony from Mirkwood has established themselves in the Northern part, where the gardens once thrived. They are rebuilding the land to its former glory,” he answered. “You seem to have a curiosity for the elves. Have you ever seen them?”

“Only once, in Helm’s Deep. I will never forget him Rosloch. I was drawn to him. Well, not just him, but to his race. I don’t know, I can’t explain it,” she said, suddenly becoming shy. Then she remembered something. “Oh, let me show you. He gave me a gift,” she said grabbing her pack from behind her. Terrwyn dug through her bag, looking for her trinket. “I know it’s in here somewhere.”

Suddenly, she was struck with the memory of the campsite and what she had been doing just before the attack. “Oh no! I have lost it. Rosloch, I’ve lost it,” she said in a panicked tone.

“What have you lost, Terrwyn?” he said trying to calm her.

“The elf . . . he gave me a wooden butterfly carved in the most intricate detail. He made it himself and gave it to me that day on the steps of the Keep. I have treasured it ever since.” Terrwyn hung her head as a tear gathered in the corner of her eye. “I must have dropped it back at our camp. With the attack and all of the confusion, I must have lost it.”

“I am sorry, my dear. It seems like it was very important to you.”

“It was Rosloch, but it is gone now.” Terrwyn’s heart fell to think of losing it. She had held onto it for so many years. The little butterfly was a source of comfort to her in troubled times. It was irreplaceable and it was lost, probably for good. Still, it was something from a time long gone. It was part of her past and that was something she could not take with her either. Maybe this was a sign that she needed to move on and become someone different. Maybe she should put everything she once knew behind her and start anew. She turned to the towering city that was growing bigger with every step forward. “A new life, this is what I must concentrate on now. Good luck charms will not help me anymore. I am no longer a child holding onto dreams. I am a woman now and I have to make my own way. Yes, maybe it is for the better that I have lost it.” As she spoke these words, a part of her was not convinced. She loved that little butterfly and she would miss it dearly.

* * *

They entered the third level now. Rosloch led Terrwyn to the stables where they gave their horses over to a stable hand. She paused a moment before following Rosloch out. This place brought back many memories for her. “Not this time,” she said to herself. Working in a stable would not do now.

With her sword at her side, pack on her back, hair tied up in a ponytail, and the dust of her recent travels covering her face, Terrwyn entered the street and looked around her. People were busy going here and there. Mothers carried small children. Men dressed in guard uniforms hurried to somewhere important. Everyone seemed to go about their business. No one seemed the least bit curious about seeing a newcomer in their city. In Rohan, an outsider would be welcomed. It would be obvious that the new person was not from her city. Gondor was much bigger, and Minas Tirith was its heart. Actually, not having a lot of attention made Terrwyn feel slightly less anxious. She was afraid she would have stuck out amongst the citizens, but no one paid her any attention. She looked to Rosloch and smiled. “Where to now?”

“Now, you meet my sister. Oh, and pay no mind to the way she fusses about me. I have not been home in a long time and she will most likely make a big scene,” he said as he rolled his eyes.

Terrwyn giggled and followed Rosloch up the road. Every now and again, someone would stop and greet him, friends and acquaintances that hadn’t seen him in a while. They would look at Terrwyn and nod politely, no one asking who she was or making rude comments. This relieved her somewhat, especially after meeting Rosloch’s replacement back in Firien. Maybe she was wrong to assume all men of Gondor were so brash.

They walked up a cobblestone street that always went on a slight incline. Stores of all kinds lined the street. Above them were apartments where the residents lived. Every so often, there was an alleyway between the stores. Rosloch explained how they led to back areas behind the stores and that it was never a good idea to go there alone, especially at night. Minas Tirith was a mighty city and it was well patrolled, but there were still some that made illegal trades, whether for goods or services, and they used these alleys as their place of business.

“As long as you stick to the main roadway, you will be safe,” he said as they passed one such alley. It was between a butcher shop and a smithy.

“Don’t worry, Rosloch. I have no intension of wandering into such dark places,” Terrwyn answered, peering down the alley as they walked by. She filed that information away and continued with her escort.

Finally, they came to a very lovely shop, its windows filled with flowers of all kinds and colors. Rosloch pointed to the housing above. “Well, here we are. This is our home. My sister picked this place because of the flowers.” Rosloch stopped and chuckled. “She didn’t approve of the place I spotted when we first settled.”

Terrwyn smiled. “Let me guess, it was above a tavern.”

“You know me too well, my lady,” he laughed. “Come. Let’s get the introductions out of the way.”

Terrwyn looked up at the pretty windows of the apartment. There were three in all, and each one was decorated with light yellow curtains and a vase of fresh flowers. It looked very cozy from the outside and she was anxious to see the inside. To the side of the store was a door that opened to a set of stairs. Rosloch politely held the door open for Terrwyn and then followed her. At the top of the stairs was a standing area and another door that was painted yellow to match the curtains. An ivy design was etched around the border of the door and painted green. Rosloch noticed Terrwyn observing the carving with its colorful leaves.

“My sister is quite artistic. She cannot stand to see something dark or dull.”

“It is very pretty. She is talented,” Terrwyn answered.

Rosloch knocked three times in a certain rhythm, and then turned to Terrwyn. “That is our signal so she knows it is me.”

Suddenly, the door flew open and there stood a beautiful young woman with bright green eyes and long light brown hair that was braided and pulled back at the sides. She wore a lovely blue dress, cinched at the waist, long sleeves with white laces that went up from the cuff to her elbow. The same white ribbon laced up the front of the floor length dress. Instantly, Terrwyn took a few steps back to give them a chance to say their hellos. The biggest and most loving smile spread across her young face as she leapt into Rosloch’s arms. The two of them laughed and it was like music to Terrwyn’s ears. She thought of her mother just then, as their father came home from duty in the Westfold. She had very much the same reaction. Oh, how Terrwyn missed those days, but they were long passed now.

“Rosloch, I am so glad you are home. I have missed you, dear brother,” she sang.

“And you look just as beautiful as ever, dear sister,” Rosloch replied. Just as he said, she started checking him from head to toe, looking for injuries Terrwyn guessed.

“Your trip home was a safe one I presume?”

“Of course, or I would not be standing here now,” Rosloch said. Then he took his sisters hands in his and gained her attention. “I have brought a guest,” he said stepping aside. “Terrwyn, this is my sister, Lindiel.” He released one of his sister’s hands and reached out to Terrwyn, who in turn took his offered hand. “Lindiel, this is the lady Terrwyn of Rohan. She has recently struck out on her own and has chosen Minas Tirith as her new home.”

Terrwyn curtsied politely. “It is nice to finally meet you Lindiel. Rosloch has had nothing but kind words to say about you.” At that moment, she realized she was still dirty from their long journey and felt embarrassed. “I am sorry for my appearance. I have not had a chance to change or clean up first.”

Lindiel smiled. “Well of course not, you have only just arrived. It must have been a very trying time coming all the way from Rohan. Please do come in and I’ll fix us some tea,” she said graciously.

Terrwyn nodded and looked at Rosloch. He smiled and gestured for her to follow his sister. The first thing Terrwyn noticed was how bright and cheerful their house was. The windows were bigger from inside than on the street and they let in an abundant amount of sunshine. To the left was a fireplace with a divan and two comfortable looking plush chairs, a sitting area. There was also an open doorway that must have led to the bedrooms. Terrwyn could see two doors, one facing the other. At the end of the short hall was a small window with a light green sheer curtain. The light coming in bathed the white walls in pale green. The window was opened slightly and a fragrant breeze blew in, scented with the smell of the fresh flowers from the shop below. Each of the doors was white and upon them were painted little groups of flowers running along the top.

To the right was another opening that clearly led into a small kitchen. Another small window with green curtains was in there, just over a washbasin. There was a black iron wood oven and a small table, probably where the meals were prepared. Outside of the kitchen doorway and to the right, there was a dining room table with four wooden chairs. A pretty yellow and green tablecloth covered the table and a fresh bouquet of colorful flowers decorated the center.

To the left of the doorway was a bookshelf that went from floor to ceiling. There were groups of books placed here and there, and among them were several small jars, vases, and figurines placed thoughtfully on the shelves.

Along the back wall and between the three large windows were benches with padded seats and pillows resting against the wall. The seats were cream colored and sewn into them was a vining detail with swirling stems and small flowers of all colors. It looked like a cozy place to stretch out and read or just enjoy the summer breeze as it came in from the open windows. Between the benches and under each window was a potted plant.

Terrwyn smiled as she looked around the room. “What a beautiful home you have, much different from the thatched houses of my homeland.”

“Thank you, Terrwyn,” Lindiel said proudly. Terrwyn could see that Rosloch’s sister took pride in her home by how inviting she made it. “Now come in and have a seat,” she said pointing to the dining room table. “I have just made a fresh batch of biscuits, and the lady from the shop below brought by some wonderful blackberry jam. The tea won’t take too long.” She looked to her brother. “You can entertain our guest while I get everything ready can’t you?” she said jokingly.

Rosloch merely smiled and watched his sister head into the kitchen. He led Terrwyn to the table and they had a seat. Then he leaned in close and whispered. “You see, I told you she likes to fuss about.”

“I think it is quite sweet,” Terrwyn said.

After a bite to eat, a few cups of deliciously fragrant tea, and some wonderful conversation, Rosloch stood up from the table. “Well, this has been most enjoyable, but I’m afraid I must check in with the captain of the guard. He will be wanting to assign my post.”

Lindiel jumped up, walked her brother to the door and hugged him. “I’m glad you are home Rosloch.”

“It’s good to be home. Take care of Terrwyn. She has nowhere to go and I told her she could stay here until she was on her feet,” he whispered in her ear.

“Oh of course, I already planned to,” she answered.

Rosloch turned to Terrwyn. “My lady, it has been a pleasure escorting you. Lindiel will show you around the city. You are welcomed to stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you Rosloch. Thank you for everything,” she said and Rosloch bowed before taking his leave.


	11. Flowers For Sale

Chapter 11 - Flowers for Sale

 

Lindiel fixed up Rosloch’s room for Terrwyn. He rarely stayed there as his guard duty kept him away a lot and he would stay in the barracks instead. This gave the girls a chance to get to know each other better. For the first week, they talked a lot. Terrwyn told her about her real family and the trials and tribulations of her youth, but she was careful not to mention any of her recent troubles. Only Rosloch knew and still he did not know everything. She only told him that she committed a crime. He did not know the true depth of the crime. Yet, somehow, Terrwyn did not think Rosloch believed her and that the crime was only a mild one. Maybe it was better this way.

As the girls were talking over a cup of tea, they reminisced about their lives in Gondor and Rohan. Terrwyn spoke of her friendship with Taldred after leaving the Westfold and going to Edoras. She couldn’t help but notice Lindiel’s uneasiness at the mention of his name.

“I guess you know him though, since you lived in Edoras for a while and he and Rosloch befriended one another, at least that is what Rosloch told me,” Terrwyn said trying to pry information from her.

Lindiel looked deep into her teacup, picking it up and swirling it around as if to find the words in the bottom of the cup. “Yes, I know Taldred. I remember him very well from our stay in your city.”

Terrwyn noticed a tinge of pink wash over Lindiel’s cheeks. She reached out and gently touched her new friends arm. “Is there something you want to say?”

“I find it very hard to speak to you about it,” Lindiel said shyly.

“Did something happen between you two?” Terrwyn went on.

“Well . . . that’s just it. It’s because of you that nothing ever happened.” Now Lindiel had turned a deep shade of red. “Oh never mind. It is not worth mulling over. I know it could never be anyways.”

“Lindiel, I am you friend above all else. If I have done something to you, with or without my knowledge, I would want to know.”

Lindiel took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I . . . when we . . . I was in love with Taldred. I came to know him during our time in Rohan.”

Terrwyn smiled and was glad to know this was all it was. “Taldred is a very handsome man and a good man too. Did he know of your feelings for him?”

“That’s just it. It would not have mattered what I told him for his heart belonged to another,” Lindiel finally confessed. “I knew he was in love with you. There were many times that I cursed your good name, and for that I am sorry, but I could think of no one but Taldred. My heart ached for him to notice me. During our stay, we became friends and I was thrilled. Then, we moved away and I didn’t see him for a long time. My brother decided to visit Edoras eventually and I begged him to take me with him. I was so excited I could hardly contain my joy. When finally we met again, Taldred seemed distant. He looked upon me as if I was a sister. I thought I had just been away for too long, but then I heard him speaking of you with friends one evening. He was deeply in love with you. Later, I saw you and I knew I would never have a chance with him.” Lindiel pushed back from the table and got up, going to the window. Terrwyn remained at the table, watching Lindiel. It was obvious that her feelings for Taldred still existed. After a brief silence, Lindiel spoke again. “I’m sorry, I do not mean to carry on. This is very awkward for me. I mean, for years I thought . . . and here you are, and . . .”

Terrwyn got up from the table and joined Lindiel at the window, sitting on one of the benches. A warm refreshing breeze blew in, scented with the fresh flowers from the shop below. “If it will help you, nothing ever transpired between Taldred and I. I cannot deny the fact that he is extremely handsome and so kind of heart. I knew he loved me and I tried to find the same feelings within myself, but they did not exist. Taldred was ever a good friend to me and when I needed him most, he was there for me.” Terrwyn paused, thinking of Taldred risking his life to help her escape the city. “He deserves someone better than me. Who am I but an uneducated girl from the plains of Rohan?”

Lindiel turned to her friend, giving her a look of amazement. “Terrwyn, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I mean, look at you, your flawless skin, long soft hair, green eyes. Why, any man would be crazy not to fall madly in love with you upon first sight.”

“It is far from love, my dear friend. Men look at me and see something they wish to add as a trophy,” Terrwyn said in a whisper. She looked up at Lindiel who was still standing next to her. “Do you still love him?”

Lindiel smiled shyly. “Yes, I guess perhaps I do, though it has been a few years since our last meeting.”

Terrwyn stood and joined Lindiel. She took up her hands and looked Lindiel straight in her brown eyes. “I cannot help but feel responsible in some way. Taldred would make a wonderful match for you. The two of you are so much alike. You must pursue this. You must seek him out. I know there is no one for him in Rohan. He searches for true love, for someone who will give him their heart unconditionally. If you love him as you say, then go to him. Taldred deserves someone like you.”

Lindiel blushed. “Oh, I don’t know Terrwyn. Rohan is so far from here and the roads are not safe.”

“Go with Rosloch the next time he is stationed at Halfirien. Edoras is not far from there,” Terrwyn said rather excitedly. “Promise me you will do this. I just know something will ignite between you and Taldred.”

Feeling suddenly uplifted, Lindiel smiled wide at the possibility. “You know, I think I will take your advice. If anything, it will be nice to see him again, even if nothing comes from it.”

“Oh, but I just know it will work. I can’t explain it, but something deep down tells me you were meant for each other. I only wish it could have happened sooner. Maybe if I had been more straight forward with him, then--.”

Lindiel squeezed Terrwyn’s hands. “It is alright. It just wasn’t time yet. But I think you are right. Now makes perfect sense.” Lindiel pulled Terrwyn in for a hug. “Thank you, my friend.” With that settled, the girls went back to their tea.

The next day, Lindiel took Terrwyn on a tour of the city. She would show her all the wonderful things about living in this place, even the gardens and other highpoints of Minas Tirith. Lindiel did a wonderful job of showing Terrwyn around. The Rohan beauty was overwhelmed by all the sights. Everything was so beautiful and she felt very lucky to be here.

Finally, as they were about to head for home, Lindiel took Terrwyn into the flower shop below their apartment. There she introduced her new friend to the shop owner, a lovely Gondorian woman by the name of Camireth. She was an older lady, but she wore her age well. Her brown eyes sparkled with a life all of their own. Her short brown hair had tinges of grey starting to show. Her skin was fair and smooth, much more so than a woman of Rohan at the same age. Camireth wore a lovely peach colored dress with a white apron. The pockets had cut stems and a pair of silver shears filling them, obviously from where she had just been arranging an order for a customer.

As Lindiel and Terrwyn approached her inside the shop, Camireth smiled wide in a very motherly way. “Lindiel, what a surprise. It is always so nice to see you my dear.” She looked to Terrwyn. “And who do you have with you. My, aren’t you a lovely girl. Are you new to the city, dear?”

Terrwyn bowed slightly, as was custom in Rohan when meeting someone new. “Yes ma’am, I have only recently come from Rohan and Lindiel has very kindly taken me under her wing.”

“So what do you think of Minas Tirith? It must be quite a change from what you are used to.”

“It is more than I could have ever imagined it to be,” Terrwyn answered.

After some pleasant conversation, Lindiel smiled and gasped as an idea popped into her head. “Camireth, could you use some help around the store? Terrwyn is trying to make a new start and she will need employment soon.”

“Why, that’s a wonderful idea. I’ve just recently been given permission to send street venders to the higher levels. It would require you to travel early each morning to the sixth level and rotate around to the different corners to sell flowers. You will have a cart to push. It is not the easiest work, but you will make a commission from the flowers you sell.”

Terrwyn smiled excitedly. “I will take it. I have been wondering how I can be of service here. This will be just perfect.”

“Good. Give me a few days to finalize the best selling locations on that level and you can get started,” Camireth said. She hugged Terrwyn. “You will come home with an empty cart every day, I’m sure. You are as pretty as any flower in this shop.”

Terrwyn giggled quietly at the comment. It had been such a long time since she felt normal. Camireth would make a wonderful employer and Terrwyn would do her best not to disappoint. Now she could contribute to Lindiel’s household.

Eventually, Terrwyn became accustomed to her new job. Life in Minas Tirith was quiet and there were no confrontations. After three months of adjusting, she was just beginning to relax and enjoy her new life and friends when Lindiel approached her.

“Rosloch has been called to duty at Halfirien,” her dark haired friend announced one evening over tea. “He’s leaving in a few days. I’m thinking of asking him to let me go with him.” A shy smile spread across her face as she looked down into her teacup.

Terrwyn reached out, laying her hand over Lindiel’s. “I think this is wonderful news, though I will miss you.” She squeezed her friend’s hand. “Taldred will be thrilled to see you.”

A look of worry came over Lindiel. “But what if he is not? What if he does not even remember me?”

“This is what taking a chance is about. You will never know unless you go there and see him. At least you have a place to come back to should it not work out.” This last part Terrwyn said with sadness in her voice. Should things not work out for her in Minas Tirith, Terrwyn had no place to go home to. 

She shook off these thoughts and smiled at her friend. Lindiel reached out and touched the side of Terrwyn’s face. “This is your home now. While I am away, I would like it if you stayed here and took care of my home for me.”

“Oh, of course I will. You needn’t worry,” Terrwyn answered.

* * *

Two months had passed since Rosloch and Lindiel left for Rohan. It was quite lonely at first, but the flower shop was keeping her busy. Terrwyn loved her job working for Camireth. Early every morning, before the sun rose, she arrived downstairs and loaded her cart. It was made of wicker and weighed less than a wooden cart. This made pushing the flower cart a little easier. Leaving while it was still dark made traveling the three levels better too, avoiding the hot summer sun. When she got to her destination, she went to a fountain and filled her flower buckets, placing the fresh cut flowers into the water. Then she would go to her usual corner and wait for the morning traffic to begin.

Terrwyn had three locations in which she set up, one for morning traffic, one for mid-day and the last for the evening rush. She did well since most of the residents at this level were lords and ladies, very well off and could afford such beautiful bouquets. Some gave her a little extra for the flowers and told her to keep it for herself. She was doing rather well and was able to put aside a few coins. If she kept up at this rate, she would eventually have enough money to afford her own apartment. From there, she would work on a plan to begin searching for her brother, either hiring someone or doing it herself. For now, she just needed to concentrate of selling flowers.

Terrwyn had almost every flower in season for sale. Today was no different. Daisies, carnations, roses of all colors, she had it all. Unfortunately, the weather was not going to hold out much longer. Grey clouds were forming overhead as an afternoon shower was getting ready to burst. She would need to move soon and take cover somewhere.

Terrwyn was just about to move when someone spoke from behind her. “Those are very lovely flowers. Do you have any white roses today?” The voice was smooth and sultry. Just the sound made her heart skip a beat, but she didn’t know why. She turned around to find a very tall, very fair-skinned elf standing there wearing a warm smile on his lips as well as in his eyes. Oh, and what blue eyes they were. His long platinum hair was braided at the sides and tucked behind his pointed ears. He wore dark tan leggings and tunic, and a dark green undershirt. Terrwyn could tell that he was an important elf by the material of his clothes and how well they were made.

It suddenly dawned on her that she had not answered him. She felt her face heat up and was sure she had turned three shades of scarlet. “Oh, I . . . may I . . . my lord, would you,” she stuttered.

The elf chuckled. “If I had known I was going to startle you, I would have made sure you saw me approaching first.”

Terrwyn did her best to regain her composure. “I am sorry, my lord. You are only the second elf I have ever met. I was beginning to think there weren’t any here in Minas Tirith.”

The tall handsome elf held his hand out to her and she accepted it. Then he politely raised it to his lips and kissed her gently on the back on her hand. She noticed right away how calloused his fingers felt. He must be an archer, she thought. Of course he was. The bow was the weapon of choice for many elves.

“My name is Legolas,” he said, lowering her hand and releasing it.

“Terrwyn,” she said shakily. It was all she could manage to say. As her hand slipped from his, she noticed a residual energy left on her skin. It seemed to seep into her pores and spread down into her fingers. This made her breath catch and she stared at her hand as if it was about to change in shape or color. What was this sensation and why would she feel such a thing? She had never experienced anything like it.

“Well, Terrwyn, I would be most interested in buying some white roses from you, if you have any left,” Legolas said, looking over the cart.

Terrwyn smiled and felt her breath hitch again as his brilliant blue eyes met hers. She felt her heart flutter as she gazed upon his beauty. He was gorgeous. “Why yes, I believe I still have half a dozen left.”

“Then I will take them,” he said, reaching for a pouch hanging at his hip.

Terrwyn took the roses and bunched them carefully. “Would my lord care to purchase some ribbon to finish off the bouquet?” She pointed to the front end of the cart where there was a bar that held many spools of different colored silk ribbon.

Legolas moved to the front of the cart and looked at them all. His long fingers held a piece of gold ribbon and he smiled. “I believe I will take this one,” he said. “It will look pretty in her hair.” 

“My lord has good taste. It is my most expensive one. Are you certain?” Terrwyn questioned, but she knew he could afford anything she had to offer.

“I will take the gold, unless you suggest something different,” he said kindly.

“I think the gold will go quite beautifully with the white roses.” Terrwyn picked up a pair of shears and neatly cut the ribbon. Then she proceeded to wrap it decoratively around the stems. “She must be very special to receive such a glorious gift.”

Legolas smiled as a dreamy expression washed over his face. “She is very special. She is my wife.”

“Oh, so you reside here in Minas Tirith?” she asked.

“Well, my wife does . . . at the moment anyways. Before we were bound, she took employment here in the city, but my own duties are required in Ithilien. I am merely visiting her. It is a surprise. She does not know I am here,” Legolas said, watching the girl carefully tie a bow with the ribbon.

“Oh, how sad. You must miss her terribly,” Terrwyn replied, handing Legolas the flowers. She told him the cost and he reached into his pouch.

“I am hoping to force her into . . . how do you say . . . early retirement? I think these flowers just might help to set the mood.” Legolas handed her the money, which was much more than what he owed.

Terrwyn started to get his change but the golden elf held his hand up. “The rest is yours, my lady.”

“I couldn’t, my lord. ‘Tis much more than I should accept,” she protested trying to hand him his change.

“No, no, you keep it,” he smiled. Just then, a raindrop fell and hit Legolas on the forehead. “I believe we are in for a drenching.”

“I must go. I am due at my next station and I have to find shelter,” she said looking once more up into his blue eyes. How lucky his wife was, she thought, to have such a caring and handsome husband. She wished she would someday find someone just as loving that she could give her heart to.

“Good day, my lady,” Legolas said before turning.

Terrwyn watched him walk away, her heart and mind all a flutter after meeting this gorgeous elf.

Now, the rain started coming down in huge drops. Without looking back, Terrwyn secured the goods on her cart and started to step into the street to cross it. Her next station was about three blocks down on the other side of the cobblestone street. The sky opened up and without hesitation, the rain poured down. At that moment, there was a flash and a loud clap of thunder. Terrwyn was half way across the street, still in a daze after meeting the elf, when she heard him yell to her.

“My lady, look out!” Legolas heard a horse cry out just after the sound of the thunder. It spooked a very large workhorse pulling a wagon and he took off wildly. There was no one to help control the beast as he was left unmanned. Now Legolas watched as he headed straight towards Terrwyn.

Everything happened so fast, no one had time to think. Terrwyn heard Legolas yell and just as she turned, there was the horse only a few feet from where she stood in the street. She froze, not knowing what to do as the crazed horse closed in on her. All she could think of was her flowers and the expensive cart. It was her livelihood and without it, she would have no job. She took a step forward hoping get out of the horse’s way, but he turned his direction so that she was still in his path. Terrwyn screamed as the horse was almost on top of her. Then she felt strong hands grab her arm and pull her backwards. But the rain made the cobblestones slippery and she fell along with her rescuer, whom she could not see since he was behind her. She thought it must be the elf, for he was the one that warned her of the danger. As she fell, she just caught a glimpse of the large horse running into her flower cart and smashing it to pieces. Then she felt her body hit the ground. The force made her head whip backwards and hit the stone street with sharp force. Immediately, Terrwyn was dizzy and the pain was terrible, but all she could think of was her ruined cart. Upon hitting the ground, her breath was knocked from her. Along with the sharp pain at the back of her head and not being able to breathe, she started to lose consciousness. The last thing she remembered was a male voice speaking to her.

“My lady, are you alright?” he said.

Terrwyn’s vision was blurry and with the heavy rain, she was blinded and could not see her rescuer. “My head hurts,” she managed to say and everything turned to darkness.


	12. Close Call

Chapter 12 - Close Call

 

Terrwyn dreamt of giant beech trees and sweet smelling meadows. She climbed high into one of the trees. Someone was chasing her, but she was not frightened. They were only playing. She laughed as she easily jumped from branch to branch, having no fear of falling. The experience was so freeing and she thought she would never feel better than this, that was until she started to wake up. Her head hurt terribly, as if someone was hammering inside her skull repeatedly. As she blinked her eyes, the light coming in through a window did not make matters any better. Terrwyn tried to move her head but the pain was too much. She moaned as she looked around, her eyes slowly coming into focus.

“Where am I?” she croaked, noticing how dry and parched her throat felt.

“You are in the healing houses in Minas Tirith,” said a familiar voice. It was the elf from earlier.

Terrwyn’s mind had to play catch up as she remembered what happened. The elf bought roses and gold ribbon. They talked briefly, and then it began to rain. She crossed the street. There was a large horse and--.

“My flowers! My cart!” she exclaimed. She tried to move again but her head throbbed. It hurt so bad, she felt nauseous, and the spinning did not help either.

“Try not to move, lady Terrwyn. The healers said you had a pretty hard fall. You have a slight concussion also,” Legolas said to her.

Terrwyn managed to turn her head enough to look down and see two booted feet crossed one over the other at the end of her bed. She stared at the dark brown boots. It was funny, but even with her head pounding she couldn’t help but notice how worn and ragged they looked. She knew this elf was well off and could afford a new pair. “Your boots, why do you wear such a haggard looking pair?” It was a strange way to start a conversation, but for some reason, it bothered her.

“Now you sound like my wife,” Legolas said cheerfully and laughed. “These boots are probably as old as you are. They have seen me through many troubled times. I would part with them no sooner than I would part with my horse.”

“What happened, my lord?” Terrwyn asked, forgetting about his worn boots and squeezing her eyes shut, trying to block out the light.

“First of all, I would have you call me by my name. I feel we know each other well enough, since I have been here watching over you for the past three days. And secondly, to answer your question, you were almost run over by a spooked horse, and a mighty big one at that.”

Terrwyn tried hard to concentrate on what he was telling her. “I have been asleep for three days?”

“I’m afraid so. As I said, you have a slight concussion and the healers have been giving you herbs and medicine to keep you quiet and allow time for healing. Just this morning, they decreased the amount they have been giving you so that you may wake up.” Legolas lowered his feet to the marble floor and sat forward in the chair next to her bed. “Do you remember anything at all of that day, Terrwyn?”

“Yes, I think so. I remember meeting you and the white roses, the rain, crossing the street, the horse, you pulling me away from danger and--.”

“Oh, I’m afraid it was not I that pulled you back. I was too far from you to help, though I ran as quickly as I could. No, there was a man close by who watched it all play out. He was the one who saved you.” Legolas said with a contagious smile. His eyes sparkled as bright as the sky, as if he knew something she did not.

“Then I would very much like to meet my guardian and give him proper thanks. I only wish I could have saved my flower cart. The lady who owns the shop said it was very expensive and that I should take great care of it,” Terrwyn said sadly.

Legolas leaned forward and placed his hand on her arm. She immediately felt that same strange sensation travel just under her skin, like there was a connection between them, but she couldn’t explain it. “You needn’t worry about that. I have taken care of it for you. Camireth is a very sweet lady. She refused to accept my donation to pay for a new cart, but I insisted. Now all we need to do is get you onto your feet again, and make sure you remember to look both ways before stepping into the road,” he chuckled.

“You are very generous, my lor. . . Legolas,” Terrwyn corrected herself. “I promise to repay you little by little until you have your money back for the--.”

“Nonsense!” Legolas interrupted. “It is in my nature to help where help is needed and I do not expect anything in return.” As he finished speaking, the door to her room slowly opened. Terrwyn could not move to see who came in, but she saw Legolas smile wide. “Ah, and here is your guardian now.”

“Is she awake?” said a man’s voice softly from the door.

“She is, and she would like to meet you.” Legolas got up from his chair, allowing the man to come to the bedside. 

Terrwyn looked up to see a man with dark brown shoulder length hair, neatly groomed beard and mustache, wearing brown leather pants and a white long sleeve cotton shirt. He smiled down at her, his handsome expression full of concern, brown sparkling eyes that crinkled around the edges when he smiled. She knew this face quite well.

“Rosloch? It was you?” she said rather shocked.

“It is good to see you awake, Terrwyn. I have been rather worried for you these past few days. You have barely stirred, but the healers said this was normal,” he said in a soft voice.

“My head still feels like a thousand dwarves are mining for gold inside my skull,” she said wincing at the thought. She looked up at him again. “What were you doing there? I thought you were away on duty at Halfirien,” she said in a dry raspy voice. “You said you would be gone for at least four months.”

“It was to be that long, but I got an early reprieve. Now I see why I was allowed to come home early. It seems a certain damsel was in distress,” he jested.

Terrwyn noticed how his whole face lit up and his eyes shone. She managed to return a smile, though any kind of muscle movement from her neck up was painful. “I don’t know what to say. How can I ever repay you?”

“Rosloch has come several times to check on you, lady Terrwyn,” Legolas chimed in. He had been observing how they reacted to each other and felt there might be a slight connection between them, though the man seemed quite a bit older than this young girl.

“That was very kind of you,” Terrwyn replied to her savior.

Rosloch shook his head and leaned in close to whisper. “Didn’t I tell you I would protect you like I would my own family? Truly, this must have been the work of the Valar. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.” He placed his hand to the side of Terrwyn’s face and gazed into her green eyes.

Terrwyn felt something different between her and Rosloch. She had always liked him and trusted him, but now she was seeing him in a different light. He was much more handsome than she remembered, more caring too, not that he wasn’t before.

Terrwyn and Rosloch held their gaze a moment longer, each seeming to have found something new and exciting in the other. Just then, the door opened as another visitor came in and Legolas held his hand out, welcoming in the new person. “Ai, meleth nin, I did not expect to see you so soon.”

Terrwyn reluctantly peeled her eyes away from Rosloch to find the most beautiful female elf glide into her room. She had long wavy blond hair that hung to her waist. Her eyes were just as blue as Legolas’ and when she smiled at him the whole room seemed to light up. She reached out and took Legolas’ offered hand. He pulled her to him and they kissed lovingly. Then their eyes met and they seemed consumed with each other as if there was no one else in the room. Finally, they broke their stare and Legolas led her to Terrwyn’s bedside.

Rosloch stepped aside. “I will go and let you visit,” he said, eyes shining bright. “I am very glad you are making a full recovery. I don’t know what I would have done if I did not get to you in time.” He started to turn, but stopped. There was something he needed to ask her, something he had wanted to do for a while now, but could not find the courage to do so. She was much younger than he was, but since she had this close call with death, Rosloch found that he could not keep his feelings to himself anymore. He took her hand in his, swiping his thumb across the back of it. “Terrwyn . . . if it is alright with you, I . . . I, um . . . well, there are gardens here and . . . when you are released from the healing house --.”

Terrwyn smiled shyly. Rosloch was never without words. He seemed very sweet and sincere just then. “I would love to,” she answered before he could ask properly, and she squeezed his hand.

That was all the reassurance Rosloch needed. He smiled wide, the crinkles appearing again in the corners of his brown eyes. “I will speak with the healers and see when you might be allowed a walk.”

“That would be wonderful, Rosloch. I am tired of lying in this bed. I am already feeling much better.”

Rosloch nodded. “Consider it done.” With that, he released her hand, bowed politely to Legolas and his wife, and then left the room feeling as if he had a new spring in his step.

Legolas looked at his wife, both of them beaming from the exchange between Rosloch and Terrwyn. Then he led her to the chair beside the bed. “Terrwyn, I would like you to meet my beloved wife, Rhavaniel,” he said.

Rhavaniel smiled and sat down in the chair. Terrwyn liked her already. She was a beautiful elleth, youthful and vibrant, a sparkle in her blue eyes that seemed to show her as a little mischievous too. She felt a good vibe emanate from the elleth. Her energy was contagious and Terrwyn wondered why she could feel it at all. Then she realized she was staring and blushed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have never met a female elf before and you are so beautiful.” Now she felt heat on her cheeks after saying this.

Rhavaniel smiled, reaching out for Terrwyn’s hand. “You are very kind.” She looked back at the door. “Rosloch seems like a wonderfully nice man.”

“Yes he is. We have known each other for a while now. He was my escort as I traveled to the White City. Though I know him, I don’t think I can ever repay him,” Terrwyn answered.

Rhavaniel liked Terrwyn. She was very young, but she seemed to be very intelligent too. Being royal bodyguard to the Queen and in charge of training some of the new recruits, Rhavaniel was always sizing up new people she met. There was something about Terrwyn that told her the young girl was stronger than she looked. “Yes, Legolas has told me that you are fairly new to the city. I can see by your red hair that you are not of Gondorian blood.”

“No, my lady, I am from Rohan,” Terrwyn answered carefully.

“And your family?” Rhavaniel went on. “They would agree to let you travel so far from your kin?”

“They have all perished. That is why I left my home. There was nothing left for me there.” It was not exactly the truth, or it might be if her brother had not survived all these years. She did not want to give too much of her life away. There may still be people looking for her. Would she ever be able to speak of her past without feeling guilty and fearful?

Legolas decided it best to jump into the conversation. “You will have to excuse my wife and her questions. Rhavaniel holds a very high rank here in Minas Tirith. She is Queen Arwen’s personal bodyguard,” he said proudly.

Terrwyn’s eyes got as big as saucers. “Oh my, you are most important above all in the city. You know the Queen personally,” she said excitedly. “I have yet to even see her, or the king for that matter.” Then she turned to Legolas. “You said you do not live here, but only visit. Why would you not want to stay with your beautiful wife, my lord?”

Rhavaniel laughed. “He has not told you who he is has he?” Then she reached for Legolas’ hand and pulled him down to her, gazing into his eyes. “That is one of the things I love about him, his modesty.” Legolas kissed her lightly on the lips. “Lady Terrwyn, let me properly introduce you to Prince Legolas of Mirkwood and Lord of North Ithilien.”

Terrwyn gasped. “I cannot believe my luck. In all my years I have only met one elf, and he was enough to fill my mind with visions of him for years now. But to gaze upon a Prince and a Princess is just too much. I am honored to meet you both,” she said grinning from ear to ear.

Rhavaniel blushed slightly. “We are bound, but I am not yet a Princess. We have not had a proper ceremony yet, at least not until I have trained my replacement as bodyguard.” Rhavaniel turned to Legolas and laid a loving hand to the side of his handsome face. “And when that day comes, I will finally be able to live permanently in Ithilien. For now we relish our visits.”

Terrwyn could feel their love emanate from them. “So you are from Mirkwood also? I would love to hear how you met.”

Legolas chuckled. “It was a most inopportune time I’m afraid. You see it was my tenth begetting day and Rhavaniel decided to steal away all my attention that day by coming into this world, a new born babe.”

Rhavaniel laughed. “Yes, and he has never let me forget that.”

Legolas and Rhavaniel told Terrwyn a little more about their childhood and how they could not stand the sight of each other, but that eventually they fell in love. The young Rohirrim girl was in awe of these two beautiful and majestic elves. This made her think of her first encounter. “The elf I met in my childhood was from Mirkwood also, but I am afraid I do not know his name. Otherwise you could tell me if you know him and what has become of him after all this time.”

Legolas’ bright blue eyes met Terrwyn’s green ones and a sense of playfulness washed over his face. “Well, if he is from Mirkwood, then I would say he is living his life to its fullest and enjoying every minute of it.”

Rhavaniel laughed. “Indeed,” she said agreeing with her husband. “Well, lady Terrwyn, I am afraid we have kept you from your rest long enough. We will be going so you can continue to heal.” She winked at the young woman. “Besides, you have to get better for your walk with that handsome Gondorian.”

Terrwyn blushed, but shook it off quickly. “It was very nice meeting you, Princess. Your husband has been awfully kind to watch over me these past few days.”

“Please, just call me Rhavaniel. I never was one for titles,” the elleth said. She stood up and took Legolas’ offered arm as he led them from the room. “Remind me to reward you later for being such a wonderful hervenn (husband),” she whispered in his ear, not thinking Terrwyn heard her, but somehow she did and blushed once more.

Terrwyn lay in her bed, her head still hurting though not as much. How exciting it was to find out that Legolas was a Prince, and of Mirkwood no less. And his bond mate, his wife, was the Queen’s bodyguard. She had been very lucky up until this point. So far she had made very good friends with Rosloch and Lindiel. She had a good job working for Camireth at her flower shop. And now she met two very important elves. Now there were these newfound feelings of admiration for Rosloch. She should just be beaming from ear to ear from all her good luck, but for the one thing that constantly hung over her head. Everything was fine now, but should the Rohirrim guards come to Minas Tirith for her capture, all of this would have to be left behind and she would be on the run once again. Terrwyn had heard no word or rumor of anything about her though. She prayed that the family of Bregmund, the man she killed in self-defense, stopped looking for her. Perhaps these other men confessed to their crime, and the jewels, and the dead man’s attempt at raping her in the stable that night. Perhaps guards were looking for her not to capture her, but to tell her her name had been cleared and all charges dropped. That would be a wish come true, but wishes were not solid and so she continued to live life cautiously.


	13. Lost Innocence

Chapter 13 - Lost Innocence

 

Over the next several days, Terrwyn made a speedy recovery. The healers were amazed at how quickly she healed, but figured it was due to her youth and vitality. She was tired of lying in bed every day, having maids come in to help her bathe, use the privy or change into yet another white bed gown. She wanted to go home and no one could blame her. Still, the head healer wanted to observe her for at least a couple more days.

As he promised, Rosloch came by at least once a day, always bringing her a fresh bouquet of flowers. It was amazing, but he always brought roses of her favorite color, just like the dusty pink flowers from the torn out page of her childhood book. It was a very sweet gesture that he remembered her telling him about and he went out of his way to find the exact flowers.

On this particular day, Rosloch came by and brought her something else of hers, a light yellow dress that she had bought with her first weeks’ pay. It was made of a cool light material, perfect for hot summer days in the city. She was never happier to see something besides those horrible white bedclothes that the patients wore.

“Does this mean I am leaving soon?” Terrwyn asked him.

“Oh, well that is up to the healers, but they have informed me that they would like to see you up and about. I thought you might like to take that stroll in the gardens that you promised me,” Rosloch said cheerfully.

“Really?” she exclaimed excitedly. “I would like that very much.”

Rosloch left to find a maid to help her change, but when they returned, Terrwyn was already out of bed and behind a changing screen. The maid shooed Rosloch out, saying it was improper. Then she went to check on her patient.

“He is very handsome, my lady, and he seems to have taken a great interest in you,” the nosey maid commented while helping Terrwyn into the dress.

“Oh, I have known him for some time now. He has been a very good friend to me,” Terrwyn said shyly. “I do hope that will change.” She shocked herself by the admission.

“Wouldn’t my lady be better off to find someone her own age?” the maid said accusingly. It was true, Rosloch was twice Terrwyn’s age, but she did not see him as thus. He was very young at heart, or at least that was the feeling she got from him.

The old maid finished helping to dress Terrwyn and then helped her to the door. Being in bed for almost a week had made the young girl slightly wobbly on her feet. When the door opened, Rosloch was standing down the hall waiting. As Terrwyn walked out of the room, his eyes lit up.

“You look beautiful, Terrwyn,” he said reaching out to her with his elbow for her to take, which she did. “How are you feeling today?”

“Well, the constant throbbing has stopped, but this lump on the back of my head will not seem to go away,” she answered.

Before they left, the maid interrupted. “Now, you will not have her out long. This is her first time away from her room since the accident. I will not have you wearing her out. Is that understood?” said the old woman with much authority.

Rosloch straightened up and very military-like answered her with a definite yes and a bow. The old maid squint her eyes at him, glaring for a moment before she turned to Terrwyn. Then her face softened and she smiled to the young Rohirric girl. “Have a nice visit and please do take care not to over exert yourself.”

“I promise,” Terrwyn said warmly. Then they headed off down the hall that led to a courtyard and the newly renovated gardens of the healing house.

Rosloch was a perfect gentleman. He escorted her; made sure she was comfortable and stopped to let her rest when she began to tire. Terrwyn noticed how different he seemed than when she first met him. He seemed nervous, something she had never felt from him before. She felt a little nervous herself. It was strange that now, after all this time and all their travels, they would seem like strangers meeting for the first time.

They spoke of family and growing up in two completely different environments, Rosloch being raised in the city and Terrwyn in the open plains of the Westfold. He told her stories of their time in Rohan during the war and how Lindiel fell in love with Taldred. Terrwyn admitted it was she that urged his sister to follow her heart and seek out Taldred.

“I wondered why she all of a sudden wanted to go with me. So it was Taldred that she wished to see in Edoras.” He laughed to himself. “I should have known. She has always held him in high regard.”

Terrwyn smiled. “Taldred is quite dashing and a very kind soul. She is in good hands, I am sure.”

They sat silent for a moment on a bench beside a young cherry tree. There was something on Rosloch’s mind. “Did you love him?” he asked softly.

Terrwyn thought about that a moment before answering. “Yes, yes I did love him, but not in the same way he loved me. Many times, I tried to tell myself that I could learn to love him. He would have treated me like a queen, but it would have been a lie. I could not have done that to Taldred.” Then she lowered her eyes to her lap and slumped her shoulders. “He deserves someone much better than me.”

Rosloch was surprised to hear Terrwyn speak of herself this way. “Taldred is a very respectable man and I will be happy for my sister if anything comes of it.” He paused and took Terrwyn’s hands in his, gaining her attention. “But it is you who deserves much more. I do not know your whole story, and I am not asking you to tell me, but I do know that you have had a difficult time of it. I meant what I said Terrwyn. If there is ever anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Terrwyn looked up into his big brown eyes. She caught him in her stare before he turned from her. It seemed to her there was something more he wanted to say, but was too afraid to say it. She knew their age difference was a factor. She was nineteen and he was in his early forties.

“Does it bother you that you never married?” she asked.

He smiled and let out a chuckle. “Why no, men do not suffer the same judgment as women. What about you? Most young women your age have already been married for several years with a child on each hip.”

Terrwyn laughed. “Tis true I suppose, but I know there is something out there waiting for me. There is a place where I belong. I just haven’t found it yet. And I am nowhere near ready to settle down.”

Rosloch seemed to perk up at this bit of information. “It seems we may have more in common than I first thought.”

After a while, Rosloch led her back to her room. The old woman was standing by the door; her arms folded and foot tapping. They approached her and Rosloch released Terrwyn’s arm so he could bow to the maid. Then he smiled. “Here she is, back in one piece and no worse for wear.”

“And not a moment too soon,” the old maid scolded. “Any longer and I would have come looking for you myself.” She turned to Terrwyn and smiled kindly. “How are you feeling, my lady? This wasn’t too much for your first time out I hope.”

Terrwyn put her hand on the maids shoulder. “It was quite invigorating.” Then she turned to Rosloch. “And I look forward to doing this again.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Rosloch answered and bowed once more. “Get some rest and I’ll be by tomorrow.”

Terrwyn nodded and opened her door; the maid right on her heals. Once they were alone, the old woman gave her a big smile. “I don’t mean to give him a difficult time, but you will learn you must keep these Gondorian men in line otherwise they will just do as they please.”

“Thank you for watching out for me,” Terrwyn said humoring the old woman.

* * * 

A few more days in the healing house, and Terrwyn was allowed to leave and return home. Although she had lived here by herself for the past two months, it suddenly felt very empty and quiet. Rosloch refused to stay there, even in his own room, saying it was improper. He stayed at the guard barracks whether he was on duty or not, but he visited often, usually around suppertime. Terrwyn had to laugh. He was no different from the young men in this way. Still, she enjoyed his company very much and things seemed to be exceling between them. The last time he left, he kissed her hand, something he had not done before. Terrwyn felt very comfortable with the way things were developing between them.

She started selling her flowers again with the new cart that Legolas purchased to replace the one destroyed in the accident. Quite often, the princely elf would stop to purchase white roses with a gold bow. Terrwyn teased him about it not working to speed things up for his wife to retire from her position as royal guard. Legolas only laughed and told her, “When you are immortal you have all the patience in the world.”

It was two weeks since she came home from the healing house. Life seemed to be getting along fairly well in the city and for the first time, Rosloch asked to take Terrwyn to a dance. A celebration was in order as one of his guardsmen had recently become betrothed. All of the guards were invited and Rosloch naturally went to Terrwyn to see if she would accompany him.

She did accept and a couple days later, they were off to the celebration. Terrwyn wore a long floor length pink gown, cinched at the waist and laced up the back. The neckline had small white flowers embroidered into it. The sleeves were long and had a split in them that went from just above the elbow to her wrist. She left her red hair unbound and it hung to her waist. She looked very beautiful that evening and it did not go unnoticed.

Rosloch was proud to be seen with her. His feelings towards her had changed lately. He no longer saw her as a little sister, but as an alluring young woman that he wanted to get to know better. But what would a striking creature like her want with an older man such as himself? He put these thoughts aside as they entered the dance hall.

All eyes turned as Rosloch and Terrwyn made their entrance. He was naturally dressed in his guardsman uniform, black and silver with the white tree of Gondor upon his chest. Terrwyn noticed how extremely handsome he looked tonight. The stubble of his beard and mustache was neatly trimmed. His long brown hair hung loosely at his shoulders. The high collar of his uniform made him look very regal. His brown eyes shone brightly and smiled all on their own. Terrwyn wondered why he hadn’t found someone to settle down with. He was very handsome for his age. Where most men looked battle worn and tired, Rosloch had an air of youth about him. Yet he was mature and experienced in many things. This is what drew Terrwyn to him. There was so much she did not know or understand that he could surely teach her.

The evening was filled with merry making and wonder. Rosloch danced with Terrwyn, holding her close and gazing into her green eyes. Ever since her accident, they grew closer to each other. They did not think twice about it.

They had just left the dance floor and Rosloch went to find them some refreshments. Terrwyn was standing by herself, watching other couples dance, when she overheard a group of women talking in a corner. They were talking about Rosloch, wondering why he was with such a young girl. They said he should be with a mature woman his own age and that this made him look bad in front of the other guardsmen. This angered Terrwyn. How dare they speak about him like that. She moved to where she could not see or hear them only to pick up on the conversation of a group of young men. The men were making crude comments of what they would like to do to Terrwyn had she been their date. They said she would be left unsatisfied by someone as old at Rosloch, that he had nothing left to give at his age. Feeling hurt, she walked to the entrance of the hall.

Finally, Rosloch came to her carrying two glasses of Gondorian wine. “There you are. I have been looking for you.”

“I’m not sure I want to stay,” she said and Rosloch sensed something was wrong.

“What happened, love? You were just having such a wonderful time. I hope I did nothing to --”

She turned to him and there was the hint of a tear in her eye. “You did nothing. You have been a perfect gentleman, but it seems others do not approve of us, you know, because of our ages.”

Rosloch turned back to the group of partygoers. He saw whom she was speaking of. “Those are no friends of mine. Besides, they are just jealous that they could not find anyone to accompany them tonight.”

“Well, maybe they should meet that group of women over there,” she said nodding her head in their direction. “They do not approve either. Why do they have to be so cruel? Can’t they see we are just two friends enjoying each other’s company?”

Rosloch smiled. “Well, we can say our goodbyes and leave, or we can stay and give them more to talk about.” He took her chin in his fingers. “Do not let the minds of other affect your own thoughts and feelings, Terrwyn. They do not know. They have not seen what we have. They have not experienced the same things as us. I am completely comfortable having you by my side. I care not what others might think. They are just nosey fools and jealous of your beauty.”

Terrwyn smiled, his words bringing her much comfort. “And of your handsomeness.”

After that, they shared their wine and a little more conversation. Then they danced some more, only this time they held no reserves for what some of the other guests might think or say. The dance ended and they enjoyed spending this time together.

Rosloch walked Terrwyn home. She invited him in for tea. He refused of course, but she insisted. “This is your house too you know.”

“It hasn’t been my home for a long time. This is Lindiel’s house and yours now.” The mention of his sister made him remember something. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “ Lindiel sent a letter.” He pulled a letter from his pocket. It was still sealed with the symbol of Rohan.

Terrwyn was surprised he hadn’t opened it yet. “You have not read it?”

“I wanted to wait until we were together,” he smiled, handing her the folded parchment.

“Well, now you have to come in. We must read it together,” she said happily. She took him by his hand and led him through the door. “Come sit at the table. I will make us something.”

He did as she said and sat down in one of the wooden chairs, laying the sealed letter on the table. He watched as Terrwyn made quick work in the kitchen and had water heating in no time. She moved so elegantly, he thought observing her long slender body, her long red hair whipping out behind her whenever she turned quickly.

When she was done, Terrwyn carried in a tray with tea, cups and some biscuits. She sat it in the middle of the table, smiled at Rosloch and took a seat next to him. She looked at the letter lying on the table. Rosloch pushed it towards her and she picked it up. Terrwyn observed the seal for a moment. It was in the shape of a horse rearing up on its hind legs, the symbol of Rohan. Oh, how she missed her home. Her finger rubbed across the horse as she thought of open plains and thatched houses. Then she broke the wax seal and unfolded it carefully. Her eyes scanned it quickly. “Well, she says life in Rohan was difficult to get used to at first, but that Taldred made her feel very much at home.” She read on silently as if searching for something, then gasped. “Oh, he has asked to court her!” she said excitedly. “She has accepted and will be staying in Edoras indefinitely.” Terrwyn read on some more, and then a tear came to her eye. “She has given me her apartment, says there is no one she trusts more to take care of it and keep it bright and cheerful.” Terrwyn put the letter on the table and smiled serenely. “This is wonderful news,” she said, but Rosloch heard the slightest bit of sadness in her voice.

He reached out and took her hand. Terrwyn forced a smile with tear-stained eyes. “I really am happy for them and I knew this would happen, but I can’t help but feel a little lonely knowing that he has moved on.” She smiled and swallowed her tears away. “I am being ridiculous, aren’t I?”

Rosloch moved his chair beside hers and placed his hand on the small of her back. “I think it is natural for you to feel this way, but you are not alone,” he said whispering this last part. He took her chin in his fingers and turned her to face him. They locked eyes as he slowly leaned towards her until their lips were almost touching. This was something he had wanted to do all evening. He could feel her tremble. 

“May I?” he asked politely.

Terrwyn answered by leaning the rest of the way until their lips lightly touched. She felt her body warm instantly. Rosloch moved closer, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her further into him. He pressed his mouth to her a little more. When he felt that she was comfortable, he ran his tongue along her bottom lip. Terrwyn answered by separating her lips and accepting him into her mouth. It felt so good. Rosloch was very experienced at this kind of thing, and Terrwyn liked that he was. She began to wonder what else he could teach her.

He released her sooner than she would have liked and came to look deep into her bright green eyes. He took a length of her red hair in between is fingers and let it slip slowly through. “Lindiel would not approve of this, you know.”

“But she is not here and what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Besides, I am not a child,” she answered.

“Oh, I know you are not. You are a very beautiful young woman,” he said seductively. He leaned in again and captured her lips with more determination.

Terrwyn’s heart was pounding. Rosloch’s kiss was heating her in places only she knew how to warm up until now. She definitely was not a child, but untouched and inexperienced all the same. In a few weeks, she would turn twenty, practically an old maid she laughed to herself. She trusted Rosloch and felt she knew him well enough. They had discussed their wants and needs. Neither one was looking for anything serious, but both wished for some comfort and teachings. Who better than Rosloch to fulfill this wish.

The kiss ended and Terrwyn sat back looking Rosloch over. He seemed to be reading her mind and reached out to touch her lips, her neck and down to the top of her bosom. She did not flinch or turn away. He could feel her heart beating wildly beneath her heated skin.

“Others will talk,” she said. “They will say you are too old and I am too young.”

“I do not care about them. Terrwyn, from the moment I first saw you I drowned in your beauty. I swore to protect you and that meant from myself too. You are not like other women. You are special . . . pure. I almost do not feel worthy to taste your lips. I know you are looking for something out there and that it is probably not me.” Realizing how much he wanted her and knowing she had saved herself for someone she loved, he released his hold on her and stood up. “Maybe this is wrong. I should probably leave.”

Terrwyn, overwhelmed by the sudden change, sat still and watched him walk towards the door. Should she let him leave? Maybe it was for the better. Still, she had felt something special with Rosloch and not just now. Since she first met him, he had been very respectful and that was something rare. Most men looked at her as a plaything. Rosloch was different. He was a gentleman. He would take care not to hurt her. She didn’t know how she knew this, but something inside her soul told her it was right. Many men would try to take away her innocence, but none would respect her the way he would. Yes, he was twice her age, but somehow that didn’t seem to matter. He was very handsome, rugged, well built, experienced and kind. This was right; she could feel it in her soul. This was the moment she had been waiting for.

Just as he was about to turn the handle of the door to leave, Terrwyn jumped up from her chair. “Rosloch?” she asked innocently. 

He paused and slowly turned to her. She came to him, took his hand and looked him into his beautiful brown eyes. “Don’t go, please. I want you to stay.” Then she took his hand and placed it inside the neckline of her pink dress, covering her breast with his calloused hand. “I want this. I want you.”

“Are you sure? Are you sure you want it to be with me?” he asked.

Terrwyn nodded. “Yes, I have never been surer of anything.” She turned her back to Rosloch, offering for him to unlace the back of her dress. He did so carefully, his fingers grazing across her silky skin. Then she turned and Rosloch watched as she gently pushed the loosened fabric down, exposing her breasts and her creamy white skin. Her chest heaved in and out, as her breathing became rapid. Rosloch calmed her with another fiery kiss, this time feeling her tongue meet his when he searched for access. His hands came up and cupped the underside of her breasts as his thumbs brushed across her erect nipples. He released her from the kiss and gazed at her lovely face.

“I am ready. I don’t want to be this timid little girl any longer. I am ready for you to make me a woman,” she whispered. “Make love to me Rosloch.”

He picked her up in his arms and carried her to her bedroom. He gently laid her down on the soft sheets. Rosloch lay on the bed beside her and slowly kissed her. His hand reached down and caressed her leg as it lifted the skirt of her dress. He hoped his calloused skin was not too rough on the delicate softness on her thigh. Their tongues entwined as he nudged her legs apart. She complied and he ran a gently finger up the inside of her thigh. Already her skin was heated and he knew what he would find further on towards the juncture of her thighs. His lips abandoned her mouth, grazed down her neck and came to her soft breasts. He sucked her flesh into his mouth, tongue encircling and hardening her nipple. Her skin smelled of roses and her body was on fire.

Now his hand traveled to her soft curls and separated her moist folds. Normally, he would already be pounding into his lover by now, but Terrwyn was untouched yet. He would go slow, take his time and let her get used to his ministrations. It was very important to him that her first time was enjoyable and memorable. This was something she would never forget.

Terrwyn, though a virgin, was a willing partner. As he caressed her most intimate parts, her hips gyrated wanting something more. Rosloch sat up and looked into her eyes. “I will be gentle, love.”

Panting and unable to answer with words, Terrwyn simply nodded and watched Rosloch sit back and scoot off the end of the bed. He undressed in front of her and for the first time, she got a good look at his body. He was not as prominently muscled as the young men of Rohan, but he was fit in all the right places. His chest, his stomach and arms were amazingly toned. He was a most handsome man. And then her eyes fell upon his hardened length, pointing toward the ceiling. This was the first time she had ever really seen a naked male in full arousal and she felt herself blush. He looked intimidatingly large, but she would not let this stop her. She knew she wanted this.

Rosloch pulled the dress from her body and looked down upon her creamy white beauty. Her red hair spilled out over her pillow. Her knees were together and bent, lying to the side while her back was flat on the bed. He allowed her to observe his body, to know what a man looked like. Then she smiled at him and his whole body came alive again. He reached for her ankles and pulled her to the end of the bed until her legs hung over the edge. Terrwyn giggled at the sudden movement while he smiled sweetly to her. Then he bent down over her, capturing her lips once more. He held himself up with strong arms, his brown hair hanging down around his handsome face. Rosloch moved down her body, kissing and nipping along the way. Terrwyn’s hands wrapped around his length of hair, noticing how soft it was. He sucked on her round breasts, gently holding her nipple in his teeth before releasing her, then moved lower to her stomach, kissing her soft skin. He got to his knees on the floor at the foot of the bed and nudged her legs apart. Terrwyn willingly did so. Taking each leg, he placed them over his shoulders. His hand caressed her body, separating her folds and massaging her womanhood. Then he lowered his head and lapped at her sweetness. Terrwyn twisted and moaned. Nothing had ever felt so good, and this was only the beginning. She felt his finger enter her while his tongue flicked her hardened nub. This was so much better than anything she had done to herself. His tongue was wet and warm and moved wickedly. She was feeling herself getting closer to climax when suddenly he inserted another finger. He moved them inside her body until she felt a sensation she had not before. Rosloch had found her pleasure zone, one in which she did not know existed. He took his time, bringing her close to finishing and then slowing down. A third finger joined the others and she felt her body readying itself for what else he had to offer her this night.

After a long drawn out session of sensations she had never experienced before, Rosloch sped up his motions and brought her to completeness. Terrwyn felt an unbelievable explosion of awareness of every nerve in her body as she had her first real orgasm, not done by her own hand. He kissed the inside of her thighs and lowered her legs from his shoulders. Then he came up to lay next to her on the bed, his hands massaging her breasts as he watched her lips smile in satisfaction.

While he let her recover, he showed her how to pleasure a man, first with her hand then her mouth. He was very good at telling her just how to move or flick her tongue over his sensitive head. She was a quick learner and seemed to enjoy this new game. Now, he was beyond ready to engulf himself in her warmth. He would need to be gentle though. He moved her further up toward the headboard of the bed, crawled on top of her body and covered her with his weight. Terrwyn felt his hard shaft against her thigh. It pulsated and jumped with excitement, making her want to feel this sensation elsewhere. Rosloch covered her with kisses before bringing his attention to her, connecting with her eyes.

“Are you ready, love?” he asked smiling down at her, his fingers running through her hair.

Terrwyn trembled and nodded in agreement. He felt her slight reserve. “We do not have to do this tonight.”

“But I want to. I want this and I want it to be with you, Rosloch,” she whispered.

Rosloch smiled and kissed her once more. Then he brought his body up and nudged her legs apart with his knee. He lowered himself down onto her once again, bringing his hardened length to her entrance. She brought her knees up, unsure of just what she was supposed to do, but not wanting to lay there like a bump on a log. He felt her nervousness.

“Just relax and let me make you a woman,” he moaned. “Oh, Terrwyn you are so beautiful.”

He pushed into her body little by little, backing out when she winced. He slowly entered her, letting her get used to his size and girth. Finally, he pushed through her barrier and stilled himself until she got used to him being inside her. Then he moved slowly. When she started responding to him, he sped up his rhythm. She naturally brought her legs up around his waist and he readjusted. Now he was fully sheathed inside her tight body.

“Are you alright?” he asked lovingly.

“I think so,” she replied and he increased his gyrations.

Rosloch made love to her slowly and deliberately, reading her body and making sure he was not hurting her. She started to breathe harder as the feeling turned from pain to pleasure. “A little faster,” she said surprising him and he obeyed.

Finally, he was making love to her at a steady pace, his hard cock sliding easily in and out. Terrwyn was moaning and bringing her hips up to meet his. Rosloch thought of all the young viral men, like Taldred, that could have, maybe should have been her first. Yet here he was with this beautiful young innocent thing. He felt honored that it was him that she chose and a sense of pride lifted his spirits.

“Oh, you feel so good, Terrwyn,” he whispered as he took her.

She was no longer resisting his movements, but welcoming them. They were closing in on their climax. Rosloch went deep and pumped short fast movements. Terrwyn moaned, her voice getting higher with every breath. He felt her muscles tighten, went deep and stilled himself as he came. Terrwyn screamed his name as she climaxed at the same time. Both of their bodies tightened as every muscle came alive in a synchronized dance. Then he looked down at her flushed face. He kissed her slowly and gently, laying his body down on top of hers while they recovered. He remained inside her while he softened, then finally rolled off and came to rest at her side. Terrwyn was shocked to see him covered in blood and she gasped. Rosloch looked at himself and smiled. “It is alright. This is natural. You are a woman now and this is what happens.” He kissed her and comforted her.

After they recovered, Rosloch got up, retrieved a towel from a nearby table and dipped it in a basin of clean water. He washed himself off first, not wanting to shock her any more than she already was. Then he got a fresh towel, wet it and went to where Terrwyn lay on the bed. He cleaned her up in a most loving fashion, smiling and talking to her about her experience. It was the most memorable night of her life; one she would never regret and only the first of many nights with Rosloch, her friend, her lover and her teacher.


	14. Summoned

Chapter 14 - Summoned

 

It had been three months since their first night together and Terrwyn and Rosloch became quite close. He left staying at the guard barracks to spend many nights with her in their apartment over the flower shop. They tried to keep their relationship as discrete as possible, but people still talked. Rosloch said he did not care what they said, but Terrwyn did not like the extra attention. It was not her relationship with an older man that worried her, but rather having her name become known around town. She was always looking over her shoulder and keeping an ear open to gossip, just in case she heard something about her past.

Another thing that bothered her was the fact that she was leading this new and amazing life while her brother, if he was still alive, was a slave to the Southrons. She spoke to Rosloch many times about this.

“You should not go alone should you decide to pursue this,” he would tell her often. “You have had experiences with them. You know how brutal they are. Should they kidnap you, they would --.” He could not go on.

“I know what they would do, Rosloch,” she argued. Earlier, they had been to a local tavern for a delicious meal, sweet wine and suggestive conversation. She expected that they would go home and make love, but somehow the discussion switched to her future plans and that included finding her lost brother, Hathmund.

Rosloch saw a change in Terrwyn. She had matured greatly since they consummated their relationship. She was becoming braver with every day that passed. He could tell that she was getting antsy. Although she loved living here, there was something else waiting for her out in the world, some goal she had yet to accomplish, and one of them was finding her brother.

“You worry me that’s all,” he countered, noticing her anger. “I fear that I will wake up one morning, or come home after my guard duty and find that you have left. I just want you to understand that you cannot do this on your own. If anything were to happen to you, I’d . . .”

Rosloch was sitting on the edge of their bed. Terrwyn seductively walked to him. “If I promise not to go, will you stop worrying?”

Still in a serious mood, Rosloch answered. “I cannot say that I will stop.”

She reached for the laces of her bodice, undoing them one by one and easing it from over her loose white shirt. “What do I have to do to ease your mind?” she said with a wicked smile.

“I’d say this is a good start,” he jested as he watched her fingers undo the buttons of her shirt. Then he added. “But I am still worried about you.”

“Maybe this will help,” she said as she unbuttoned the last button. She pushed the shirt from her shoulders, firm pointy breasts jiggling for his amusement. As she stood before him, she nudged his legs apart, coming closer to him.

Rosloch placed his hands on her hips and looked up at her beautiful face. He smiled and then pulled her to him, captured each breast in his mouth and moaned. “Mmm, such a pretty young thing.”

Terrwyn’s fingers twisted into his hair. His warm mouth felt good on her cool skin. His tongue caressed her rosy nipples. She pushed back and looked down at him. “Perhaps some more convincing is in need. Something tells me you do not yet believe me.” She pulled his loose shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor. Then she pushed on his shoulders. He scooted back onto the bed as he lay down. Terrwyn climbed on top of him, her thighs straddling his hips. She unbuckled his belt and pulled his brown cotton pants down. With his help, he kicked them off and let them fall from the edge of the bed. Terrwyn moved back some, bent forward and took his erect member into her mouth. Rosloch moaned at the invasion of her warm tongue circling his head. He sat up on his elbows to watch her. Long red hair fell down like a curtain, tickling his thighs.

When she was sure he was ready, Terrwyn stopped and crawled up to capture his lips. He was hard against her belly and so close to where she wanted him to be. She moved to take off her floor length skirt, now fully naked for his eyes to see. She straddled him once more, this time taking him into her willing body. Leaning forward, she kissed him then ravished his neck. Rosloch’s hips gyrated up and he buried himself even deeper within her walls. Terrwyn gasped in surprise as he went deep, touching her most deliciously. She sat up, placing a hand behind her on the bed between his spread legs and set her rhythm. Rosloch pushed up as she came down. She threw her head back, moaning gloriously. Then Rosloch turned to his side, taking her with him until she was on hands and knees and he was behind her. She laid her head on the bed, her curvaceous rear sticking up in the air. Rosloch’s hands grasped her waist and pulled her into him with every thrust. He pounded into her, the sound of skin slapping skin, moans from both of them filling the bedroom. With one hand, he reached for her hair, pulling it. This was something she recently discovered to be quite arousing. He did not hurt her. He was not cruel in doing so, but Terrwyn liked the feeling of him having total control over her.

Now he slowed his thrusting and pushed deep into her body. Terrwyn swirled her hips, feeling him pulsate inside her now. Then he made short hard thrusts, remaining completely sheathed inside her. Faster and faster, he moved until she was screaming his name, covering him in her essence. Rosloch stilled himself deep within and came hard, her name tasting sweet upon his lips. They collapsed onto the bed, Rosloch lying on top of her. He kissed her neck, sucked on her earlobe and told her everything he liked about their lovemaking. Terrwyn giggled, his softening member still buried within her.

Finally, he pulled from her and came to rest at her side. Terrwyn shifted, spooning her backside into his stomach. Rosloch’s arm wrapped around her waist and he held her tight against him. “I do not know why you have chosen me, but I am glad,” he whispered.

“You are the best bed teacher a girl could ask for,” she jested.

“Is that all you see me as?” he mocked disappointment.

They shared a laugh and took a short rest before continuing their love making long into the night. Finally, completely spent, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, satisfied and happy to have found companionship with one another.

* * *

Rosloch and Terrwyn had been asleep for hours. It was still dark outside and the sun would not rise for a couple hours yet when there came a pounding on their door. Terrwyn jumped up immediately, being a light sleeper. Rosloch moaned and reached for her, missing her closeness. Another loud knock came and she shook him until he woke. “Someone is at the door,” she said with a frightened voice.

“Stay here,” Rosloch demanded as he got up from their bed. The room was dark and he knew not where his pants were. He felt around until he found a throw on a nearby chair, wrapped it around his naked waist and went to the door.

Terrwyn felt a panicked heat rush through her as her adrenaline surged. This could not be good. Something serious was about to happen. She got out of bed, fumbled for her clothes and dressed quickly. Terrwyn knew instantly what this was about. Word had finally reached Gondor. She had been discovered. This was her greatest fear and it was all coming true. She walked out to find Rosloch speaking to a pair of guards.

“What is this about?” Rosloch demanded.

“Our business is with the lady and no one else. We have our orders,” said one of the guards as he looked past Rosloch’s shoulder to see a terrified young girl standing across the room. “Are you the Lady Terrwyn?” he said ignoring Rosloch.

She nodded, unable to find her voice. Rosloch looked back at her. “You do not have to tell them anything until you have been charged.”

“They have found me,” she whispered, seemingly shocked. She slipped her shoes on and walked to the door. Two tall Gondorian guards stood just inside, blocking her way out just in case she tried to run. The thought had crossed her mind.

“You are to come with us to the Citadel and speak with the Captain of the High Guard,” said the guard. They were dressed in full uniform, much like Rosloch’s, black and silver with the white tree of Gondor upon their chest. 

Her mouth was suddenly dry and she could not find her voice. She merely nodded and took a step towards the door. Rosloch grabbed her arm to stop her. “I must demand what the reason is for interrupting our lives in the middle of the night.”

“Our business is not with you, though you may be called upon at a later time,” the guard said maintaining his authority.

Terrwyn laid her hand upon Rosloch’s arm. “I must go with them,” she whispered. 

“They cannot just yank you from your home like this without reason,” he argued.

Terrwyn did her best to smile, trying to calm Rosloch. “They have every right to do this. Did I not tell you this might happen some day? Please do not make things worse for me . . . or you for that matter.” She put her hand to the side of his face and lightly kissed his lips. “I have to go.”

Reluctantly, Rosloch released his hold on her and she joined the guards at the door. She was not sure if she was being arrested. They did not chain her wrists. Still, they were intimidating and she would not dare go against their wishes.

“Terrwyn,” Rosloch said sounding confused and worried.

She turned her head to look back at him, tears filling the corners of her eyes. “I am sorry.” Her voice began to waver. Then she disappeared down the stairs and into the empty streets. Two large horses waited for the guards to return. One of the guards pulled a cloak from his saddle and handed it to her. “Put this on. The night air is chilly and it will help conceal you.”

“Conceal me?” she asked confused.

“This is a private matter at this point. The Captain asked that we draw as little attention to you as possible,” he answered her before helping her into the cloak. Then she climbed up onto the horse, the guard sitting behind her, and they rode off to the top level of the city.

* * *

They rode up a ramp that seemed almost like a tunnel. Suddenly they came into a large courtyard with well-manicured grass and white stone pathways. In the middle stood a large tree with white flowers and a pond flowing at its roots. It was unlike any tree she had ever seen. “The white tree of Gondor,” she whispered to herself. This was something she had heard about in stories told by those who attended the coronation of King Elessar, but she could never have imagined it would look this beautiful. Still, it seemed lonely in a way. This was the only tree like it in Middle-earth growing in a place where there were no other trees.

The horses jogged off to the left where a separate building stood. It had no fancy archway to greet visitors. The stone looked dark and cold. The only windows were small and set very high up. It was not welcoming at all, and Terrwyn knew this was where they were taking her. She was unwelcomed in this high regal palace, and this would be her prison, at least that’s what it felt like.

Meanwhile, back at her apartment, Rosloch dressed quickly and made to leave and follow her. As he reached down for his belt, he noticed Terrwyn’s pack, the one she had with her when she first arrived at Halfirien. He stopped and picked up the tattered bag. He knew she kept her most treasured finds in there. He started to untie the leather strap that held it closed, but stopped. Rosloch had always respected her privacy about her past, thinking she would come to him when she felt the time was right. She never did and now she was being led away by not only Gondorian guards, but members of the High Guard. They outranked all other guards except for their Captain. He could not help but think this was a very serious matter to be in their custody.

“But I know her,” he said to himself. “She could not have done anything so terrible . . . could she?”

He hesitated before opening her pack. “If she wanted me to see what was inside, she would have shown me long ago.” He closed his eyes as if searching for an answer. When he opened them, his site fell upon their bed, unmade and in complete disarray from a night of lovemaking. He looked at the pack again. Maybe there was something inside that would help her, or help him understand her better. He proceeded to open the flap and look inside. Some things he had seen before, the torn out page with roses, the Rohirric medallion, and a few other miscellaneous items. He found her throwing knife, which he had seen her attach to her thigh many times, and most seductively too. But at the bottom of the pack there was something wrapped in a cloth. He pulled it out and held it a moment before carefully unfolding the black velvety material. It was a dagger, silver with a white handle. To an untrained eye, it was just a simple weapon, but the elvish runes said that this was a very old knife. Rosloch thought of the many times Terrwyn mentioned how she would love to see the elves, even live amongst them. Now he wondered how she acquired this ancient weapon. Still, there was nothing out of the ordinary here. All the same, he felt as if he should hide the pack away and that was what he did. He took it to the closet and tucked it away beneath a stack of throws. It was the best he could do for now.

Rosloch finished dressing, putting on his guardsman uniform. By now the sun was just beginning to rise. He strapped on his belt and was about to leave when there came another knock on the door. He opened it to find two more High Guards standing outside. “What is this about?” he said abrasively.

“You are wanted for questioning. I can say no more. You will find out soon enough,” said the guard.

Without any arguments, Rosloch closed the apartment door and followed the High Guards down to the street, where they mounted their horses and headed for the highest level of the city.

Rosloch was led to the same building as Terrwyn, though he knew not where she was or that she was in the same place. He was taken to a small windowless room. It was dark and dank, lit by only one candle. The guards led him inside and then left, locking the door as they did. There was nothing in the room except for two hard wooden stools to sit upon. This was not a prison cell, but a room for questioning. He was sure someone would be along soon to ask him about Terrwyn. His mind still wondered what she could have possibly done to have been placed in such a situation, and supposed he would find out soon enough.

What did he know of her anyways? Terrwyn had never told him anymore than she wanted him to know. There was nothing to hide it seemed to him. They met at Firien Woods and he escorted her to Minas Tirith. He and his sister gave her a place to stay. She found employment and now they shared a bed. There was nothing criminal about any of that. He would of course have to tell them what he knew or he would be jeopardizing his own ranking as a guard.

Rosloch leaned forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. “Oh, Terrwyn what have you done, love.”


	15. Confessions

Chapter 15 - Confessions

 

The two High Guards that brought Terrwyn to the highest level of the White City now led her down a long dark hallway lined with sporadic simple looking doors on either side. At the end was a thick wooden door with an engraving of a tree on it. One of the guards knocked and opened it, slipping in to announce her arrival. She glanced at the guard standing next to her, but his face remained fixed without expression. There was no use asking him what was happening. He would have nothing to say. It did not matter anyhow. She was about to find out once she went through the door.

After a brief time, the man came back out of the room and looked at the other guard without even a glance at Terrwyn. “Bring her in,” he demanded as he swung the door open wide enough for them to enter.

This room was an office it seemed. Dark wood paneling lined the walls. There was a tall bookshelf on the very back wall that went almost to the ceiling. Terrwyn quickly glanced at the leather bound books neatly put in their places. Some had lettering on them; others had golden runes in what she thought was elvish. Terrwyn was not educated in the ways of the scholars and could not be sure, but they looked similar to the runes on her dagger.

In front of the bookshelf was a very large desk, the same color as the dark paneling, and a bulky leather chair with a high back. There was a candelabra on one end of the desk, which gave the room its light. Parchments were neatly stacked in the middle and on the other end lie a book opened to a page full of more of the familiar runes. She thought it was odd that the Captain of the High Guard would have an interest in such things. Surely, he was a very busy man. But this was Gondor and men of this realm were better educated than those in Rohan.

Terrwyn felt her arms free from the grip of the guard’s hands. She looked at them, waiting for them to give her some kind of instructions, but they turned and left the room where they had entered it, closing the large wooden door behind them. Not sure what to do, Terrwyn stood still and waited to see what would happen next.

“Do you know why you have been brought here?” said a low womanly voice from the oversized chair, which was turned to face the bookshelf.

Terrwyn was shocked to hear a female’s tone. “I have my suspicions,” she answered, trying hard as she might not to sound intimidated.

“I have every right within my power to have you arrested,” said the voice.

“I thought I had already been rousted,” Terrwyn replied, her voice steady. “Otherwise, why would I have been plucked from my bed in the middle of the night?”

“And from the reports I have been made aware of, I could have you incarcerated and thrown into our prisons without worry of having ‘plucked’ you from your home. We do not tolerate criminals or their despicable acts here in Minas Tirith.”

That was all the proof Terrwyn needed to hear to know she had finally been tracked down. Word reached the city of her crimes. “I do not know what your reports say, but I know what happened and I am innocent. It was self-defense,” she pleaded. Not since speaking to Taldred had she spoken this aloud.

“Well now, that is why I brought you here,” said the womanly voice. The chair moved, slowly spinning around to reveal whom it was that Terrwyn was speaking with.

A familiar face met Terrwyn’s. “Lady Rhavaniel?” she said, astonished to see the beautiful elf. “But where is the Captain of the High Guard?”

Rhavaniel laughed. “Who did you expect to see? Ah, let me guess . . . a rather tall, worn faced older man who has seen more than his share of war?”

“But you are the Queen’s royal bodyguard.” Terrwyn was quite confused.

“That I am, but there is more to this job than just dressing up and sitting by the Queen’s side. I am in charge of all royal guard or High Guard, as they are known. When there is something important taking place, I am the first alerted to it. This is why I brought you here, Terrwyn. Some very serious charges have been placed upon you, but you know this.”

Terrwyn nodded, looking to the floor. “It is the reason I left my home.” She finally felt as if she should tell her whole story, the truth. Maybe Rhavaniel would see she was being honest and help her find somewhere else to escape to. Certainly, she would understand. Before she could speak, Rhavaniel was asking her questions.

“So is this statement true? You are a thief and a murderer. You stole precious jewels from a noble family and when confronted by one of the family members, you attacked him, stabbing him in the neck and killing him, and then tried to run away from the crime scene.” Rhavaniel’s voice was not one of compassion but of accusatory tones. This was not a friendly conversation. It was an interrogation. 

Terrwyn knew how it looked, but she also knew what really happened that awful night. Still, hearing her charges as described in the letter made her realize to what degree this situation had grown to. All evidence pointed to her. Wasn't it partly true? She had the jewels in her possession. She killed a man, and was escaping in the middle of the night. The stern look on the Lady’s face did not help either. Rhavaniel had the power to bind her hands and send her off back to Rohan. Fear settled in the pit of Terrwyn’s stomach. Why would Rhavaniel believe any other story?

When she finally found her voice, Terrwyn spoke. “From what you have read in that statement, yes, it is true, but only to a degree.”

Rhavaniel raised a questioning eyebrow. Terrwyn felt her suspicion. “It does not matter what I say now. I have proven my guilt by running away. No one will listen to my side of the story.”

“I have always believed that there are two sides to any story. It is my job to hear them out. You say you have not been given a voice, but you have not made yourself heard. You ran away before explaining yourself. I’ll admit, it did not help matters, but if you feel you have something different to add, please tell me. I am a willing participant.” Rhavaniel stood up from her chair and gestured for Terrwyn to have a seat opposite her. Terrwyn sat down and folded her hands in her lap. Rhavaniel observed her body language. She was not behaving like your typical criminal. “Now is your turn to be heard before the High Guard of Gondor. Explain yourself and then I will cast my judgment upon you.”

Terrwyn’s hands kept busy rubbing each other. She found she could not look Rhavaniel in the eye. Yet, she had finally been given an avenue to tell her own story in whole without interruption. She didn’t know what good it would do, but it was all she had left now. So she started from the beginning and told her about her parents dying, her brother’s kidnapping and how she needed to find him. She told her about living in a stable, meeting Alric and caring for him. She told her about the jewels he gave her and how he told her to leave Rohan after his death. Then she came to that fateful night when her world was turned upside down, how these men tried to stop her, take her, rape her and eventually sell her to the Southrons in exchange for land. Terrwyn told her about Bregmund’s plans to leave the rule of Rohan and start his illegal trade business, which he was the mastermind behind the theft of his own family’s treasure, though he did not steal them himself. Terrwyn was brought into all of this without her knowledge. But when things turned for the worst, she was unjustly accused. Yes, she had the bag of stolen jewels, but she had not known they were stolen until it was too late. Yes, she killed Bregmund, but only after he had choked her, weakened her and tried to rape her. And now, the two men who were in on the theft saw their chance to put it all on Terrwyn just to keep themselves out of prison. Terrwyn was innocent, but every event that happened that night pointed to her guilt.

Rhavaniel sat silently and without expression as she listened to Terrwyn’s story. Deep down, she felt for the young Rohirrim girl. Men could be so cruel sometimes, something she would never understand as an elf. It was a fact though, and there was nothing to be done about it. She mentally reached out to Terrwyn and found that she was telling the truth. Her body language was very clear as well as the way she spoke. This was truly what happened to this poor girl. However, a crime had been committed, whether in self-defense or not.

“You should never have run away, Terrwyn. I am afraid you have made matters worse and your one chance to prove your innocence may be lost. The innocent do not run and that is what you have done.”

“I know my Lady. There are times that I regret ever making that decision. But you must understand how our system works in Rohan. It would have been two men against one woman. No one would have believed me and I would have been hung for murder and theft.”

“You never gave them a chance to believe you,” Rhavaniel said matter-of-factly.

Tears came to Terrwyn’s eyes. “You believe me don’t you?”

“It is not my call to make. My job is to protect my Queen and the people of Minas Tirith. You have been charged with these crimes and that is out of my power. My only option is to arrest you and alert the Rohirric guard of your capture. I am sorry, but I have no other choice.”

Terrwyn’s last hope at help was diminished. Even the Lady Rhavaniel could do nothing for her. She was cornered with nowhere to run. She could no longer hide from her past. She slumped forward in her chair and felt her life drain from her. Terrwyn gave up.

Rhavaniel could feel the young girl surrendering. There was no hope left in her soul. What could she do though? As Captain of the High Guard, it was her job to see that such matters were dealt with properly or the whole system would fail. There were still those amongst them that did not agree with the choice to make Aragorn their king. Threats still came to the royal family and it was Rhavaniel’s job to expose any and all that may be a threat. Still, she felt no such threat from Terrwyn. This was just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now things had gotten out of control and may not be fixable. She could not help Terrwyn in any way but for one. It was the only thing she could do that would keep her from the general population of the jails of Minas Tirith.

“As I said, I have no choice but to arrest you. That would mean you would go to our prison until the Rohirric guard came to claim you,” Rhavaniel said as she walked out from behind her desk. “Unfortunately, you would be thrown into a cell with many other ruffians waiting to be shipped back to their homelands or the place where they were charged with their crime. I have little to say of these men except that some are the lowest of humanity. One look at a pretty young girl like you and there is no telling what might happen to you. These prisons are out of my control as their inhabitants are not of Gondor. I cannot pass judgment upon them unless they have committed a crime in my jurisdiction. These are our laws and I must abide by them. However, I have never had to arrest a woman for such charges and I have made the decision not to put you with these degenerates.”

Terrwyn felt the slightest bit of hope return as she waited for Rhavaniel to continue with her verdict. “I am sending you to Ithilien to be housed until such time that you are released to the custody of Rohan.”

Terrwyn lowered her head once more. She was still being arrested, just in another location. Rhavaniel felt for her and she spoke to her on a personal level now that she made her decision. “I am sorry Terrwyn. This is the way it must be. I am giving you a better chance by sending you to Ithilien. As you know, my husband Legolas is Lord and ruler there. You will be under the watchful eyes of the elves instead of men. I feel no harm will come to you there. You will be treated fairly. I can arrange for you to be kept on watch outside of the cells. You will still be a prisoner, but you will not be behind bars. You will be put on a rigorous work schedule and guarded at all times. There will be no escape, no matter how free you may think you are. The elves are much more lenient in this way, but they will not hesitate to shoot anyone who tries to escape. I feel you will not try such foolery. I trust that you will abide by the laws of North Ithilien until such time that you are released to Rohan.”

“I will Lady Rhavaniel. Thank you for allowing me this slight bit of reprieve. I understand what you have told me and I will abide,” Terrwyn said bowing.

Rhavaniel took Terrwyn’s chin in her fingers and had her stand tall, looking her in the eyes. “The best thing you can do now is to be honest. Tell them your story as you have told me and I believe justice will prevail. It is time that you faced this head on and stopped running. You cannot hide any longer. I will pray that the Valar open the hearts and minds of your judges so that they hear the truth in your voice and the honesty of your heart.”

“I cannot thank you enough, Lady Rhavaniel. You are right. I cannot run any longer. Whatever my fate may be, I will take it and stand strong,” Terrwyn replied.

* * *

Meanwhile, in another room at the opposite end of the hall in which Terrwyn was with Rhavaniel, Rosloch was being questioned by Rhavaniel’s second in command, a very unforgiving Gondorian High Guard.

“And you say she wandered into Firien woods looking for food and shelter?” said the guard sternly.

“For the hundredth time yes. I did not know the girl and I only helped her because she needed assistance. I had never met her before, nor did she reveal any other information to me. If she has committed these crimes as you say, I would never have known. She seems anything but a criminal to me. She said she was looking for someone to escort her from Rohan to Gondor. Her parents had died and she had nothing left. Gondor would give her a new life and that is just what she did. I gave her a home and she acquired employment. As far as I know, she was well liked and a hard worker, hardly what I would expect from a murderer or a thief. If you ask me, she has been wrongly accused.” Rosloch was tired of the interrogation. He was asked the same questions repeatedly and each time he had the same exact answer.

Finally, after what seemed like hours in the small dark room, the guard was satisfied with his answers and left, leaving Rosloch alone again. Another thirty minutes or so passed before the door opened. The same High Guard entered and handed Rosloch a parchment. “Read this and if you agree to the terms, sign at the bottom. Then you can be on your way.”

Rosloch unrolled it and read it over carefully. Then he looked at the guard. “I agree to the terms,” he said and signed it before handing it back to the guard.

“Come with me then,” said the stern Gondorian and Rosloch followed him from the room.


	16. Uncertain Prospects

Chapter 16 - Uncertain Prospects

 

She wasn’t sure how long it had been since Rhavaniel left the office, but it seemed to Terrwyn that many minutes ticked by as she waited anxiously. The elleth hadn’t said where she was going, what she was doing or when she would return. The candles on the desk seemed shorter than when the woman first arrived. The sun was probably up by now and the inhabitants of the city were busy getting their day started. Terrwyn was supposed to have been at work by now. She wondered what Camireth, the lady whom she worked for, would think about her absence. Terrwyn was never late and worked every day she was asked to. Would she ever see her again? Would she ever get a chance to explain why she never showed? Terrwyn figured she would never see Camireth again, or any of her friends for that matter. Hopefully they would not see her being escorted by High Guards while riding atop a horse wearing shackles. But if that were to happen it would be no less than she deserved, she thought.

The door to the office opened and Rhavaniel came in. Terrwyn noticed she carried with her a piece of folded up parchment and wondered if it had anything to do with her. Rhavaniel had a seat behind her desk, unfolded the paper, wrote on it with her feather quill and then slipped it into a drawer. Then she brought her attention to Terrwyn.

“Here is what will transpire,” Rhavaniel started. “You are to leave the city immediately. You will not be bound as a prisoner for I would like as little attention to this matter as possible. A horse and an escort will be waiting for you. There will be no time for you to go home. Besides, you will not be allowed to bring any personal belongings. Clothes and such will be provided for you once you reach Ithilien and settle into your new accommodations. You will have a limited amount of time to reach Ithilien. Your escort is aware of this. Should you not show, you will be breaking the laws of Gondor and then you will be in my jurisdiction. I have yet to lose a prisoner and I am not about to start now. I will personally hunt you down and drag you back to the city where you will be locked up with the general population and tried accordingly. Is this understood?”

“Yes, my lady. You have made everything very clear. I promise to do as I have been directed. You need not worry,” Terrwyn answered.

Rhavaniel raised an eyebrow. “That remains to be seen. I will wait for word of your arrival before I am sure I made the right decision here. I am taking a very big chance, Terrwyn. Do not go against my orders. Many have tried but only one succeeded. And do you know what happened to him?”

Terrwyn shook her head, afraid to find out. “He was never heard from again?” she guessed.

Rhavaniel smiled wickedly. “I married him,” she laughed. Then her features softened and she went to Terrwyn. “Now that I have gotten all the formalities out of the way, I can speak to you as one female to another. Stay strong Terrwyn. Life can be difficult for women sometimes. I myself have had many trials and tribulations to get to where I am now. There are still many things I must deal with. Your path will already be a difficult one, but I see something in you that I have not seen in a very long time. You have a fiery spirit and if you make it through these hard times, I think you will finally rise above and become whatever it is you are meant to be. Stay truthful and look your judges in the eye. If they are fair, they will see what I see. I am sorry your life had to take this turn. You are very beautiful and smart. You should be happy and carefree, not full of worry. May the Valar watch over you, Lady Terrwyn.”

Terrwyn smiled solemnly and bowed before Rhavaniel. “Thank you my lady.”

“You may go now. My guards will take you to your escort,” Rhavaniel said as she opened the door for the young girl. The guards were waiting in the hall and walked with her to the door that opened out into the courtyard.

The sun was indeed up and shining brightly. It had been dark when she first arrived, but now she could see the courtyard in all its glory. It was peaceful and serene. She breathed deep and took in her surroundings for this may be the last time she would experience this in a long while. Terrwyn glanced back one more time, just to see the Citadel, the royal home of the King and Queen. She may never be this way again.

The guards led her across the courtyard to the white stone road that led out from the highest level of the city. There was a horse already saddled and waiting for her. Beside him was another horse and rider, a guard by the looks of his uniform, but not one of the High Guard. This was her escort who would see that she made it to Ithilien in a timely manner. Terrwyn sighed as she thought about everything she was leaving behind and all those she would not be able to say farewell to. A part of her knew a day like this would come, or at least a day that she would set off on her own again.

A cold breeze blew across her face. It was mid-Autumn and winter would be here soon. So far, the weather had been very mild this season and she hoped that was a sign of good weather to come. She never cared much for the cold winds that blew across the plains of Rohan. The chilled air always seeped in through the thin walls of her childhood home. During those months, the fireplace never went cold. She remembered her and Hathmund sitting in front of the hearth many a night, too cold to sleep in their own beds. Now she wondered what winter would be like in Ithilien and if she would be traveling back to Rohan during this time.

The guards took her to her horse, helped her up and turned to leave without ever saying a word. She drew her cloak around her and lifted the hood over her head. “I guess we are leaving right away,” she said to her escort. He was dressed in full uniform, black and silver, and wore his silver helm upon his head, which covered a good deal of his face.

“Yes my lady, there is no time to spare,” he said and Terrwyn thought she recognized the voice. She turned her head to look at the man who was looking straight ahead. Finally, he cocked his head to the side and Terrwyn knew those shining brown eyes.

“Rosloch? But what . . . why--?”

“I am your escort to Ithilien,” he said allowing a slight smile.

“Rosloch, if you have done something to--.”

Rosloch smiled. “I have done no such thing. I was summoned by the Lady Rhavaniel and given the choice of being your escort.”

“But why you? I thought they would still be questioning you about our acquaintance,” she said curiously.

“Oh, they asked me plenty of questions, but I think they saw that I was being truthful. Rhavaniel knew of our relationship and felt you would be safest in my care. However, she has given us barely enough time to reach our destination. We cannot be late and we will have to ride hard without rest and only short breaks for our horses.”

“Then we better be off shouldn’t we. I do not want you getting in any more trouble because of me,” she said with a slight smile. If there was one person she would want to have a last few moments with before her departure, it was Rosloch. She felt she owed him that much. Terrwyn had kept her life a secret from him and she always worried about him getting in trouble for knowing her or helping her. That was why she never told him the reason she was really wanted in Rohan.

They rode down through the spiraling city streets at a moderate pace so as not to bring any attention to themselves. Once they passed through the main gates, they set their horses to a gallop and headed north towards Osgiliath. From there they would cross the River Anduin and enter into Ithilien. They would travel north following the river until they came to the northern most part of Ithilien, the newly refurbished Ithilien gardens where Prince Legolas was lord and ruler of that land.

Rosloch and Terrwyn rode silently and quickly to Osgiliath. They stopped briefly to replenish their water skins and give the horses a short break. Then they crossed the Great River and had come to the land of Ithilien. They moved at a slightly slower pace along the edge of the forest, but they did not stop often. Rosloch remained silent and Terrwyn felt his reserve. She was worried that he was upset with her. Surely, he knew the real reason she was wanted.

When the path opened wide, Terrwyn moved her horse up so that she was riding alongside Rosloch. “You are upset with me,” she stated. “But you must understand why I could not tell you my whole story.”

Rosloch sighed. “It’s not that I am upset, Terrwyn. It’s just . . . I did not expect to hear what I did.” He brought his horse to a stop. Terrwyn followed suit. He sat silent a moment, staring down at the reigns in his hands as if he would find the words he wanted to say on his horse’s neck.

Terrwyn could see his hurt. She was afraid this would happen. She should have been truthful from the beginning. Their relationship had grown to much more than just friends and she felt as if she had deceived him. “I am sorry Rosloch. I wanted to be honest but I just could not risk it.”

He finally looked her in her bright green eyes. “This is a serious matter. You will be put on trial in Rohan. The punishment could be death,” he said grimly. He stated the fact not just to make her aware of the situation, but to realize it himself.

Terrwyn hung her head low. “I know Rosloch, but do you understand why I had to do what I did? Do you believe me when I say it was in self-defense? I swear to you that I knew nothing of the jewels or even who these men were. The two remaining men set me up after the fact and made it look as though I was the guilty thief.” She went on to tell him about Bregmund using Alric to steal the jewels and the reason why Bregmund would steal from his own father to begin with. She told him about his plans to trade the jewels and her to the Southrons in exchange for land just outside of the realm of Rohan.

Rosloch was quite shocked to learn of her life. Most of what she told him was a lie. She did not take care of her ailing mother. She did not leave Rohan because she was alone and looking for a new life. Terrwyn was wanted for murder and running from the law. On the other hand, he could understand why she did not tell him about her past. She did not know him and even after they became intimate, she still could not risk telling him for his own safety. Had he known all of this when he was interrogated, he could have been charged with aiding in her escape. He was still unsure as to why he was allowed to escort her to Ithilien, but figured the Lady Rhavaniel had everything to do with the decision. Terrwyn trusted him and would not run while she was under his care. She would not bring any harm to him, further insuring her arrival at Ithilien.

“Is there no one, no other witness to what happened that night?” he asked.

“Taldred showed just after the situation turned for the worse, but he did not see what happened before that. He believed me though. He is a good man,” she said softly and with much sadness. “Anything he might say would only insure my hanging.”

Rosloch thought for a moment more. “Is there anyone who knows about Bregmund’s plans, you know, after he acquired this land you spoke of? It would show that he had evil intent.”

“The only ones who knew were the other two men, but they will never divulge the truth, least they end up in jail themselves. I’m afraid everything points to my guilt. I am caught now. I can no longer hide from my past and must stand tall and speak the truth. At least I know I did nothing wrong and when I die my judgment will be fair in my father’s halls.”

“You will not die, Terrwyn,” Rosloch said sternly. “They will be putting an innocent girl to death.” He remained silent a moment, trying to figure out an answer. Suddenly it came to him. “There is one way to insure that you will not be executed.”

Terrwyn looked at him curiously, as he pulled his horse close to hers so he could touch her. Rosloch reached out, putting a hand to the side of her face. He traced his fingers down the side of her breast and lower until it came to rest on her abdomen. He covered her with the palm of his hand and looked up meeting her green eyes. “I could give you a child and then we would have to marry. They will not put a mother and a wife to death.”

Tears came to her eyes. She had always dreamed of the day someone would ask for her hand, but this was not how she imagined it happening. She cared a great deal for Rosloch, maybe even loved him, but she never saw herself marrying him. He looked so hopeful and she didn’t know what to say. “Rosloch, I--.”

“If it is our age difference, do not worry. I do not care about that. I care about you. I make enough that I can support you and a child. I would give you everything you needed,” he went on. “I never saw myself as settling down, but with you it seems an easy decision.”

“Oh Rosloch, I am flattered, really. But this is not the way to start a marriage, let alone motherhood. What would we tell our child? ‘You were conceived so your mother wouldn’t be hung for murder.’ That is not a reason to have a child.” Terrwyn answered rather quickly, but she would not tell him that she had actually considered his offer. It would ensure her life would not be taken away from her, but it did not mean she would not be imprisoned after the baby was born. Rosloch would be left to care for the child on his own, and she could not see him being comfortable with that kind of a life. Rosloch had avoided marriage and children up to this point. He was comfortable with his life. To know he would completely change this just for her sake made her realize just how much he really did care for her. Terrwyn leaned forward and captured his lips. The kiss deepened and they seemed to forget about everything for a moment. Terrwyn pulled away first and took his hands in hers. “You have a very selfless soul. You are a bright shining gem among men, Rosloch, but I cannot allow you to make such a sacrifice for me. I do want to marry and have children one day, but not like this. No, I must face my future head on.”

Rosloch smiled. “And you are a very brave young woman, Terrwyn.” He sat back straight on his horse breaking their connection, and turned back to the direction they were headed. “Well then, I guess we better be on our way. We have a deadline and it will mean my job if I do not get you there on time.”

Terrwyn could not help but notice how quickly he changed from being so vulnerable and honest, to being the soldier that he was trained to be. “You know if the situation was different--.”

“I know,” Rosloch interrupted. He did not want to hear the rest of that statement. He had never considered marriage or a family up until now. Terrwyn was different. She was special. He could see himself with her, even with the wide amount of years between them. She was right, of course. They could not do this under these circumstances, but if it meant her life, he would have done it.

The rest of their journey to Ithilien was uneventful. They spoke no more of what was in store for Terrwyn, though the underlying anxiety was always there. The only time they stopped was to let the horses rest, in which they rested too. Rosloch held Terrwyn close during those times. He felt he could protect her now, though after she got to Ithilien, she would be out of his care. They both wished they had more time to find that peaceful oneness with each other, but time did not allow for such activities. By Rosloch’s calculations, taking the needed breaks for the horses would put them in Ithilien just when they were supposed to show. There was no extra time and Rosloch knew the Lady Rhavaniel planned it this way. So, on they went until finally they arrived in Ithilien where they were given permission to enter by the Lord Faramir, whose land was in the south and his home was amongst the hills at the center called Emyn Arnen. With a brief explanation for their visit, as instructed by Lady Rhavaniel, they traveled further on until they reached the gates of North Ithilien, which was colonized by the Woodelves and ruled by Prince Legolas of Mirkwood.

Rosloch had taken her as far as he was instructed. Now he would turn her over to the elves who would keep her until Rohan sent word as to what would happen next. They stopped just outside the gates at a guardhouse where Rosloch spoke to one of the gate guards. The tall elf nodded and took Terrwyn gently by her elbow. This was quite unexpected by Terrwyn who thought she would be cuffed and marched through the center of town to whatever destiny awaited her. It seemed the elves did not want to make a spectacle of her either, just as Rhavaniel had avoided in Gondor. The young girl began to understand why Rhavaniel sent her to Ithilien to wait out her sentence, and she started to feel a little at ease, but only a little.

Terrwyn felt the elf pull her, signaling for her to follow him. She looked back to Rosloch, fear plainly visible on her fair face. Rosloch put his hand up to stop the elf. “May I have just a moment with the lady before you take her?” The elf nodded and stepped away to give them privacy. However, he stayed within view of Terrwyn.

Rosloch stood in front of her and gazed into her eyes. “Do not be scared. You are in good hands with the elves. It will not seem like a prison at all, though you will have to work long hours each day. They will not hesitate to keep you busy. The best thing you can do is learn from them, whatever job they give you. The elves know much and it may be of use to you again someday.”

“I will try to do as you say. I don’t want to cause any more trouble than I already am in.” She paused. Trying to be brave was harder than she thought. The fact was she did not want to leave Rosloch. He had been her protector since she met him. “I wish you could be here with me,” she whispered, her voice cracking as the lump in her throat rose ever higher.

“Believe me Terrwyn, I do not want this either, but we have no choice. Do not worry.” Rosloch did his best to cut his tie with Terrwyn, but it was not easy. He cared for her a great deal, maybe more than any woman he had ever met. If she had accepted his proposal, he would have married her and been happy. There was no one else he could have said that about. Still, she was right. This was not the way to start off such an important decision. It would have been a marriage of convenience not of love, though love was not far off from the truth.

Rosloch pulled Terrwyn into his strong chest and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight and kissing the top of her head. Terrwyn responded by silently sobbing onto the white tree embroidered upon his breast. How she wished they could just leave and go back to their quiet little apartment above the flower shop, but even that had not been real. She knew there was always a chance it would all come to an end, whether she was finally captured or leaving by her own free will. ‘I stayed in one place for far too long,’ she thought to herself.

When her breathing became regular again, Rosloch lifted her chin and met her swollen tear stained eyes. “Whatever happens, you must stay strong. Stick to your story and the truth. You are a smart girl. If your judges have any intelligence, they will look you in the eyes and see your honesty.” He released her chin and lightly brushed her lips with his thumb. “I will miss those warm summer nights with you by my side.”

Terrwyn reached her hand up behind his neck and drew him down for a kiss. His lips were so warm, comforting and familiar. This was the last time she would feel this way and she knew it. She was stepping into the unknown, not a good feeling in the least. Not wanting the moment to end, Terrwyn deepened the kiss as tongues entwined. Hearts beat rapidly and they savored every last moment between them.

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat and the spell was broken. Rosloch reluctantly released Terrwyn and looked over her shoulder. The gate guard stood there, arms crossed, eyebrow raised and a finger tapping his arm. Their time was up. The handsome Gondorian cupped her face in his hands and kissed the tip of her nose. “It is time, Terrwyn. You must go.”

She could have broken into a fit of hysterical crying and pleaded for him not to leave. She could have said a thousand curses to the elf for interrupting her last moments with Rosloch. However, Terrwyn knew none of these things would do her any good. She silently nodded and released Rosloch from her hold. Terrwyn would stay strong as Rosloch told her to, but it would require her not to speak to him again for fear of crying uncontrollably. Instead, she smiled one last time, her lips a thin line as she tried not to sob aloud. Tears escaped the corners of her eyes and she turned from him so he would not have to bear witness to her sorrow. She walked to the tall elf guard, who had extended is elbow for her to take. She accepted with no resistance and let him lead her through the main gates of North Ithilien. When they were far enough away from the gate, Terrwyn turned her head, looking back over her shoulder. Rosloch was still there, but he bowed, turned and walked away. A new set of tears escaped her eyes. The elf she was with said nothing, but kept leading her to their destination, wherever that might be. She only raised her head once, to see who might be watching her. No one paid her any attention except for one. Standing off to the side of the cobblestone street was a tall, broad shouldered, black-haired ellon. He seemed to be studying her every move. He watched her through his furrowed eyebrows. Terrwyn could not help but notice him as she passed. His appearance was quite striking, as he seemed to stand out from the other platinum lithe elves around him. Terrwyn passed him, but still felt his eyes upon her. It gave her an uneasy feeling; as if he did not want her there, though she did not know why. She had never seen him before. She turned once more expecting to see him still watching her, but he was gone. She filed his face away in her memory and went on through the streets of Ithilien.


	17. The New Prisoner

Just before Terrwyn arrives at the gates of North Ithilien . . .

 

“No one was hurt. I don’t understand what all the excitement is about,” said the young elvish warrior. Feredir was half-elven, born and raised in Mirkwood. He had fought there during the Ring War and was now a part of the elvish guard of North Ithilien. At the age of one hundred and twenty five, he was past his maturity, but still quite young for an elf and one of the youngest guards in Ithilien. He was tall like most of his Mirkwood kin, fair of skin, high cheekbones, and a decent amount of muscle. He was strong and lean, sinewy from years of dedicated practice honing in on his warrior skills, very handsome, the embodiment of the best physical qualities of both elf and human. One noticeable difference was his jet-black hair, full, thick and hanging to his waist. Most, but not all wood elves had shades of blonde, anywhere from the dark copper tones to the very light platinum sheens. This, along with his half-elvish blood, made him stand out among the others and was something he dealt with his whole life. He was an archer and prided himself on his skill, maybe a little too much. His youth and arrogance contributed to this attitude, which was the reason the Captain of the Ithilien guard was speaking with him now.

“No one was hurt this time, Feredir, but next time it may be your partner’s life you put in danger instead of your own,” said Glandur, Captain and leader of the elvish army of North Ithilien, recruited and put in charge by Lord Legolas, and a longtime friend of the Prince. He was wise and did not miss a thing, especially when it came to the new recruits. He had seen this behavior before. Young warriors were excited and anxious. Sometimes the thrill of the hunt overpowered their good judgment and mistakes happened. Unfortunately, such mistakes could mean the death of fellow soldiers. 

This was not the first time Glandur had to reprimand Feredir, and he was sure it would not be the last. There was a scuffle out on the borders and Feredir’s troop was sent to settle the differences. Most of these were handled in a mild manor and no one was hurt. However, Feredir took it upon himself to break up a fight that had broken out amongst some of the Ithilien men and a small clan of Easterlings who felt their space was being encroached upon. It was not up to the young black-haired warrior to make the decision to fight. Negotiations were to happen before any threat was made, but Feredir spoke of settling with sword and bow. Some of the Ithilien men, who were roused by his speech, came to the elf’s side, weapons in hand. The Easterlings did not wait for a compromise and a small but short lasting battle broke out on the eastern edge of Ithilien.

It was bad enough that this disturbance occurred unnecessarily, but Feredir ignored yet another rule and maybe the most important one. During the fight, he left his partner and the whole squadron as he ran off to capture an Easterling that challenged him by throwing a dagger at his head, narrowly missing him and embedding itself in a tree next to where the elf stood. As if in slow motion, Feredir watched as three long black hairs floated to the forest floor. The elf very calmly looked up to see the Easterling watch his reaction to the close call. The enemy did not tarry long to find out what an elf’s wrath consisted of and he ran off into the nearby woods. Feredir’s partner saw what occurred and tried to stop the dark-haired elf. He reminded him that none was to leave the battle, but Feredir drew a deaf ear and leapt off into the trees after his attacker. Needless to say, an Easterling learned a very important lesson that day. There is only one chance at making an attempt on the life of a wood elf. Miss and it will be the last thing you ever do.

Now Feredir stood before Glandur, accepting his own wrath of a wood elf, and the Captain no less. “This is very disappointing,” Glandur went on. “And not the first time, Feredir. No one will argue with you about your skill. You are one of our best archers.” Here, Feredir allowed himself a curt smile, which seemed to irritate his commander. “However,” Glandur said drawing out the word. “If you do not follow the rules, none of that matters. Your officers have informed me of past behavioral problems and they have been dealt with in steps. I am afraid that has done no good so far and stricter punishment must be taken.”

Feredir opened his mouth to protest, but Glandur held up a hand to stop him from making that mistake. “From this point on, I am afraid you are restricted from border duty.”

“This is absurd!” Feredir rebutted. “That Easterling tried to kill me! So you are telling me it would have been better to have stood there and let him get away than to chase him down and put an end to his miserable life?”

Glandur seemed to grow a few inches as he brought himself up straight and glared at Feredir. “This is not Mirkwood. You are not hunting spiders from Dol Guldur. We are trying to obtain peace in these new days after the war and killing at will shall not be tolerated.” The tall Captain took a step towards Feredir, closing the gap between them until the dark-haired elf could feel the heat from his commander’s chest, obviously angered beyond reason. “Until I say you are ready to rejoin your patrol and you have proven to me that you can follow a simple order, you are to report to the prison grounds. Feredir, I hereby demote you to prison guard.”

Feredir was fuming, but it would do him no good to protest. Glandur was the top elf in charge. His orders were set in stone. There was no one above him besides Lord Legolas, and he would find no sympathy there. His breathing was heavy as he glared at the Captain. “I suggest you keep those thoughts to yourself otherwise you will end up on latrine duty,” Glandur said for added measure.

Just then, there was a commotion at the main gate. They both turned to see what was happening. Feredir watched as a young red haired girl was brought before the gate guard. Glandur’s attention was redirected just then as another guard came up to him, informing him of the new prisoner. Feredir kept one ear on the conversation as he watched the beautiful girl fall into the arms of a Gondorian soldier. The man looked much older than she did. He might have thought this was the girl’s father until the elf witnessed a very long, very intimate kiss between them. ‘Obviously not a blood relative,’ he thought to himself. The kiss ended, a few more words were exchanged, and then she was handed over to the guard. Glandur finished speaking with his officer and observed Feredir watching the young human girl when a thought came to him. “Ah, this could not have happened at a better time,” he said to gain Feredir’s attention. “You will be in charge of seeing over this new prisoner. You are to keep watch over her as long as she is not in her barracks. You are never to leave her alone for a single moment. I do not care if the Valar themselves come back to Middle-earth and are walking through Ithilien; you are not to leave her side. Is this understood?”

“Yes Captain,” Feredir muttered, still watching her as she walked with the gate guard.

Glandur raised an eyebrow. “I do not think you heard me. Is . . . this . . . understood?” Glandur said with much authority.

“Yes Captain!” Feredir said louder, but with resistance. He continued to glare at the red headed nuisance when she caught sight of him standing to the side of the road. She had been crying and looked quite scared.

“Good,” Glandur continued. “You will meet your new ward in one hour . . . my office. I suggest you do not be late.” With that said and his point taken with either compliance or opposition, Glandur left Feredir where he was.

As the young girl walked by, Feredir stared icily at her until she turned from him. “She is just a girl. How difficult could it be to guard her? At least she will be nice to look at. I hope they give her a job where she will be bending over a lot,” he said to himself and smiled wickedly as he watched her slim form and rounded hips sway up the street. Then he dashed off to speak with a friend or two before having to report to Captain Glandur.

* * *

The gate guard took Terrwyn through the cobblestone streets of Ithilien. It reminded her of Minas Tirith, but on a much smaller scale. The buildings that lined this part of the street stood along with space in between them. Grass and trees grew between some of the buildings. Others had paved alleyways leading to back entrances.

When they got to the end of the street, they were in the heart of North Ithilien. Everything opened up into a large circular area. Shops lined the circle and three other streets led off in different directions. In the middle was a very large and intricate fountain. Four larger than life elvish women were carved from marble and standing with their backs to each other. Each one faced in a certain direction, north, south, east and west. Their faces were smooth and youthful as they gazed up at the sky above. Their arms extended upwards with the palms of their hands turned up. A beautiful flower lay in each pair of hands and water bubbled gently from the center of each one, trickling between slender white marble fingers and falling harmoniously into the base of the fountain. No detail was left out. Terrwyn could see creases in the knuckles and delicately carved fingernails. Their hair neatly fell down their backs, ending at slender waists. What looked like long flowing skirts all conjoined at the very bottom and formed the base of the statue. This was set inside a rather large pool, made so that the residents of the city could sit on the edge and enjoy the sound of the soothing water as it fell into the basin below. The pool itself was lined inside with light blue tiles, the color of the sky. The effect made the water look serene and refreshing.

On they went now, the gate guard standing tall and taking long strides as he guided Terrwyn past the beautiful fountain and towards another street that led away from the city’s center. There were no buildings on this path, though it was paved with the same cobblestone as all the other streets that led from the city circle. Large oaks and maples lined this street, their leaves turning gold for the autumn season. The road curved to the left and a row of small buildings came into view. There were four of them and nothing fancy, just plain simple individual buildings, each with a door and one window. They were big enough to house one person it seemed. A breezeway ran between the buildings, supported by plain columns. The guard led Terrwyn to the closest one, opened it and motioned for her to go in.

Inside it was as plain as the outside, just a small room with a cot lining one wall and a window centered on another. At the foot of the bed was a wooden trunk with an unlit candle on top, obviously her only light source during the evening hours.

The guard finally spoke for the first time, his voice unemotional. “This is your assigned housing. You will be locked in every day from sunset to sunrise. Food will be prepared and brought to you. A guard will be posted outside of the door. Should you need something, you may ask it of the guard.”

Terrwyn watched as the tall elf picked up the candle, placing it on a small side table next to the bed, and opened the lid of the wooden chest. “In here you will find everything you need, clothes for the day, extra blankets, soap and other personal items. While you are off performing your duties for the day, these things will be replaced.”

The mention of soap got Terrwyn wondering. “Where can I wash up?”

The guard pointed to the far side of the room. There was fabric screen set up in a corner. “Behind there is the wash basin.” He turned back to her with a stone-faced expression. The elf was not here to make friends and was not through with his duty as of yet. “You are to dress in your daily attire, which you will find in the trunk. Leave the clothes you are wearing now at the foot of the bed for cleaning. You will get them back when it is time for you to leave Ithilien along with any other possessions you have brought with you. When you are ready, I will be waiting for you at the door to escort you to the Captain. From there you will be assigned to your duty.” Without waiting for her to answer or ask questions, the gate guard left the room, closing the door behind him.

Terrwyn looked around her new living quarters. Actually, it sounded like it would be more like her sleeping quarters. It seemed that she would be busy throughout the day performing whatever task was chosen. She wondered what they would have her do and hoped it would at least be tolerable. Still, she figured they would have her slaving away in a dark steamy room washing bed sheets and such, away from any kind of contact with the residents of Ithilien. She was a prisoner, after all, and it seemed she would be treated as one in some way.

The wooden chest was as plain as everything else, no carvings or elvish runes as she might have expected. Terrwyn pushed the lid open and peered inside. Ah, her daily attire and what a surprise . . . plain, just a white cotton blouse that laced up the front, long sleeves that would contour her arms and nothing fancy about it at all. She placed the shirt on the bed and took out a pair of beige leggings. They too laced up in front as expected. At least they were thick and warm for the cooler temperatures. Maybe she would have to work outside in the elements. In a way, Terrwyn would rather be out in the cold than locked up on a humid laundry room.

Beneath the leggings, she found a pair of brown leather women’s boots that looked as if they would just come above her ankles. They were flat, no heel, but with thick leather soles. Good for walking in snow, she thought and again wondered what her job would be.

The rest of the items in the chest were as the guard explained. There was a bar of unscented soap, a hairbrush, and a few other personal items for daily hygiene. She left these in the chest, grabbed her new clothes and dressed quickly. 

The guard was waiting outside when she emerged from the barracks door. “Are there others in these rooms?” she asked curiously, pointing to the other houses.

“As of now, you are our only female prisoner.” His answer was short and emotionless. “Male inmates are housed on the opposite end of town.”

That was somewhat of a relief for Terrwyn. She remembered Rhavaniel mentioning something about being housed in the general population in Minas Tirith and wondered if the same arrangements would take place here. “Thank the Valar for small miracles,” she thought to herself.

The guard led Terrwyn back to the center of the city. It had been early morning when she first arrived and the circle was empty. Now there were people walking about, busy with their everyday chores. She noticed carts now set up around the circle that had not been there earlier. Anything from sweet treats to jewelry was now available to the morning traffic. A small boy hammered a tack through a parchment on one of the message boards, obviously the latest news in Gondor.

They turned down the street to their left. This road was lined with beautiful gardens on each side. Short hedges grew on either side of the road with breaks in them every so often where beautiful vine covered archways stood, inviting guests to come in and enjoy the sights and smells. Even though it was fall, some of the bushes still flowered, late blooming foliage that released the sweetest fragrances. The flowers were darker autumn shades of gold, orange and burgundy. Terrwyn had never seen anything like them before. In Rohan, the land was brown and colorless this time of the year as plants and trees went to sleep for the coming winter.

Inside the gardens were gazebos attached by breezeways topped with a lattice design. It seemed there were no corners on any of the woodworks. Everything was carved in curving infinite designs, very elvish in style. People strolled along the walkways. One couple in particular caught her eye. They were elves, beautiful to behold and wrapped in each other’s arms. The woman smiled to her mate, a very handsome ellon dressed in greens and browns. Terrwyn could tell they were in love by the look in their eyes. He brought her hands up to his lips and started to kiss them. At the last moment, he slipped a silver ring unknowingly onto her finger. The smile that spread across the elleth’s face made Terrwyn’s own heart leap slightly. A marriage proposal, she thought. How wonderful it would be to have someone to love. For a moment, Terrwyn wished she could trade places with the lovely lady elf. A tear came to her eye when she remembered why she was in Ithilien in the first place.

Finally, they came to the end of the gardens. A most beautiful palace came into view. A white stone pathway merged from the road and led to an iron gate wide enough for horse drawn carts to pass through. Two more gate guards dressed in grey and silver tunic and leggings opened the gates allowing Terrwyn and her escort entrance. Directly in front of her was the palace, certainly the home of Lord Legolas whom she had befriended in Minas Tirith. She wondered if he knew of her capture. Of course, he would, she thought. Rhavaniel, his wife, should have sent word before her arrival. She liked Legolas very much. He had been so kind and thoughtful during her unfortunate stay in the healing houses. Now she felt embarrassed to have to see him again under the circumstances.

The area was vast. There were other buildings and homes here besides the palace, but it was Legolas’ royal home that stood out above them all. It was a long building with many arched windows. It stood three stories tall, the top story being open without walls. There were many domed roofs, all seemingly connected to each other with columns supporting them. The second floor had fewer windows and intricate detail on the outer walls, all elvish in design. The bottom floor looked very inviting with a breezeway that surrounded it. Many doors and windows lined the walls of the first level. A wide set of stairs led up to the main entrance, which jetted out from the rest of the level.

The entire palace was built from a rose-colored stone and was a contrast to the white pathway that led up to it. There was also a courtyard in front of the palace. Square ponds with lily pads floating in them were deliberately placed on each end of the building. Tall evergreen topiaries lined the walkway leading to the stairs, each with a small square hedge surrounding it at the bottom. The grass on either side of the white path was very well manicured. Terrwyn had always thought Meduseld was a luxurious and spacious place. Now that she had seen this, nothing would ever compare. It was simple yet elegant, full of elvish charm, fit for royalty but not so much that it looked cold and stiff. It was very welcoming, just as Legolas himself, but now Terrwyn wondered why she was here. “Why are we in this part of Ithilien? Is this not where the Prince lives?”

“It is my lady, but this is also where the base of operations for the Ithilien Guard is located. You must meet with the Captain. He will speak with you and designate which area you will be working in,” said her escort.

* * *

They arrived at the Captain’s quarters, a building offset from the palace but just as intricately built. They went in through the main doors and spoke to yet another guard who led them down a hall to an office. The heavy wooden door swung open and a very handsome statuesque elf gestured with his hand for them to come in. Terrwyn smiled nervously as she stepped past him, now standing in the middle of his office, complete with chairs, bookshelves and an array of weapons carefully hung for display on the wall behind his desk. He stood straight as a pillar, hands behind his back and his head tilted down looking her over. Terrwyn stood before him in her white shirt and beige leggings, red hair slightly disheveled. She hadn’t had time to try to look presentable since riding from Minas Tirith. Why would she, Terrwyn thought to herself. She was not here to visit. She was a prisoner and should just be glad they didn’t parade her up and down the streets, yelling and calling her names. So far, everything that happened since arriving in Ithilien was done discretely and with care.

The gate guard that had been by her side since entering the city, said something in elvish to the tall Captain, who nodded and answered in the same poetic language. Terrwyn decided they could be discussing her hanging and their language would still be the most romantic she had ever heard. Finally, the guard left the room and Terrwyn was alone with the handsome Captain of Ithilien Guard.

“Terrwyn of Rohan, you have been formally charged by your King with theft and murder. You escaped your lands, ignoring your laws, and came to be in Gondor. These charges still stand and you are now under our laws. You are to be turned over as soon as possible to the Rohirrim, taken back to your lands and tried accordingly.”

Terrwyn hung her head. It seemed no one would allow her to forget these charges. It was just a matter of time before she would know what her punishment was. There were no words she could say that would change this elf’s mind. The charges were read and she would be dealt with accordingly. “Will they be coming for me soon?” she asked in barely a whisper, eyes turned downward to the floor.

Glandur observed the young Rohirrim girl. He had been a warrior a few hundred centuries and had seen prisoners of war. There was a point when their spirits broke and they succumbed to their captors. This was what he witnessed now with Terrwyn. She had been on the run for a long time and now captured. She was giving in, ready to accept her fate. There was no fight left in her soul and this bothered Glandur. Something was not right. Cold-blooded murders never stopped fighting or lying for that matter. This young girl’s heart seemed deflated as if she had nothing left to live for. She did not defend herself. She told no story. She merely accepted whatever he was telling her. Glandur glanced around the office as if looking for a reason not to get involved. He was troubled by this one and it concerned him. She was not his problem. She was a burden to Rohan. Ithilien was only doing its duty by holding her here until the proper authorities collected her. Still, he could not ignore his conscience. “Please, have a seat,” he said gesturing to a nearby chair. Terrwyn did as he said.

“Your story is very unique. Rarely are women wanted for murder. I will have you know, we do not normally accept criminals wanted for such crimes. Most people with a record like yours are put away in the dungeons of Minas Tirith. However, the Lady Rhavaniel told me yours was a special case. I am afraid that is all she told me though. Perhaps you could enlighten me with your story.”

Terrwyn sat in her chair, shoulders slumped forward, hands tucked in her lap. “There is nothing to tell. I killed a nobleman’s son. His family will not rest until I am brought back and put on trial. It does not matter how many times I tell it, the outcome will be the same. I will be executed.”

Glandur had not the ability to read minds as some of the Eldar, but he could sense a troubled soul. He knew it was true that she had killed someone, but it was not deliberate. This child of Iluvatar did not have it within her to take a life unless her own was in danger. He retrieved a stool, the closest thing to where he stood and sat it in front of Terrwyn. He sat down, never taking his eyes from her. Only now had he realized that not once had she looked up at him. Her vision remained focused upon the floor. Now that he was eye level with her, he reached out and placed a caring hand on her arm to draw her attention. She slowly raised her head to look at him, her eyes lifeless and swollen from crying.

“This man you killed,” Glandur started. “He was going to harm you wasn’t he?”

“Yes,” she said in a mousy voice.

That much Glandur could have guessed, but the reason was still a mystery. “You had something of his, the jewels.”

“At first, that was what he wanted,” she replied. She could see the elf was trying to pry her story from her. “The jewels were given to me. I knew nothing of where they came from or that they belonged to Bregmund’s family. I hadn’t even known they existed until a short while earlier.” She continued to tell him about Alric and his gift inside the velvet bag. “He wanted me to have a better life. This was the only reason I was leaving.” She hung her head again. “And then the men came. I thought they were going to rape and kill me at first. Then they said they could use me as part of the bargain with the Southrons. . .”

“The Haradrim?” Glandur interrupted. “There was no mention of this.”

“There wouldn’t be,” Terrwyn went on. “It is only my word against theirs, but it does not matter. I had the jewels in my possession. I killed the son of the family to who they belonged. There were no witnesses, no one to protest on my behalf.”

They spoke a while longer and Glandur finally coaxed the rest of her story from her. “I’m afraid this is quite a difficult case to prove with no witness. I want you to know that I believe you Terrwyn. Call it elvish intuition, but I do not see a murderess before me. Still, I must uphold our laws. You must be held captive until you are claimed by your county.”

“I would not ask anything of you, Captain Glandur. I cannot run anymore. I can only speak the truth and that is what I will do when I return home. It is all out of my hands now.”

Glandur stood up, replacing the stool to its proper place. Then he went to his desk and sat down. He took out a piece of parchment and a feather quill and began writing frantically. He did not speak, leaving Terrwyn to wonder if he had forgotten about her. After a while, he finished, waved the paper in the air to make the ink dry quickly. Then he neatly folded it, stamping it with the seal of Ithilien. He got up and went to the door, opened it and called the guard into his office, handing him the parchment. “I have heard all that the Lady Terrwyn has to say. I hereby assign her to active work duty while she is under our watch. I do not find her to be a flight risk. She should report right away to--.” He stopped as he realized he knew nothing of her personal life. “What was your duty before coming to Ithilien, your occupation?”

“Well, when I was younger, I worked in the stables and know horses quite thoroughly. But in the White City, I worked for one of the local florists,” she answered.

Glandur, not wanting her to be bored and thinking she needed a challenge to take her mind off her troubles, smiled quite pleased with himself. “Very well, I have just the job for you. I happen to know that the Master Healer is looking for someone to help him.”

“But I know nothing about healing herbs,” she protested. “I sold flowers in Minas Tirith.”

“Oh, you will not be making medicines, but you will be kept busy,” Glandur said. Just then, there was a knock at the door. In walked the lean tall raven-haired ellon Terrwyn had seen when she first arrived. Her breath caught for he was even more handsome up close than far away. “Ah Feredir, right on time I see,” Glandur said. Terrwyn noticed how he had gone back to his Captain stature now that other guards were in the office.

Feredir did not look pleased to be there, but stood at attention in front of the Captain. “Reporting for duty.”

Glandur extended his hand to Terrwyn. She accepted and stood up. Then he led her to where Feredir waited by the door. Before introducing them, he turned to the gate guard with the letter and dismissed him with instructions to deliver the letter to the Captain of the High Guard of Minas Tirith. The gate guard bowed and left the room. Glandur turned his attention back to Feredir and Terrwyn.

“Feredir, this is the Lady Terrwyn. She is your ward now. I have put her on active work release in the healers’ quarters.” He paused and turned to Terrwyn. “Feredir is assigned to you as your personal guard. Should I be wrong in my assumptions that you will not try anything foolish, Feredir has orders to stop your escape in any way he sees fit.” This statement put a slight smile on the dark-haired elf’s face. Glandur continued. “So long as he is within his sworn duties.”

“Yes Captain,” Feredir responded.

“That will be all for now. I will take Terrwyn to meet the Master Healer. You will report at the women’s barracks first thing in the morning and begin your duty.”

Feredir bowed to his Captain. As he turned to leave, his eyes connected with Terrwyn. There was a slight glare between them and she felt as though she was a burden to her new charge. She did not even know the half of it.


	18. Dusty Rafters

Chapter 18 - Dusty Rafters

 

Feredir left the Captain’s office and went to the center of town. On the outside, he was calm. On the inside, he was fuming. He was one of the best border guards in Ithilien, reduced to a warden of the city. To make matters worse, he was assigned to a female ward. There was no challenge in guarding a female prisoner. She would surely be crying most of the time anyways. This whole thing looked bad on his record.

Not wanting to think about his problems anymore, Feredir decided to head off to his favorite haunt, The Hallowed Leg. This was a seedy tavern on the outskirts of the city, a place where he could shred his guardsman personification and just blend in with the locals. He considered this his last night of freedom. Tomorrow began his tortured life as a warden. If there was one thing keeping him sane, it was the fact that this would not last forever. He would take his punishment for disobeying orders and soon be back with his company.

As Feredir entered the bar, he could feel the tension right away. This was one of those nights where he would end up in a fight or end up in bed with some lucky girl. He hoped for the latter, but one could never tell in a place like this. Right away, he joined some of his fellow border men for a few mugs of bitter ale. He took their teasing and mildly threatened to cut off those parts that made them elves, all in good fun of course. The musicians struck up a lively tune and, feeling no worse for wear, the young elf grabbed a pretty young thing standing by the bar. She protested but he paid her no mind. As soon as he began swinging her around the dance floor, holding her close against his strapping body, she stopped complaining. The music stopped and he captured her with his sultry eyes. No woman, human or elf, had found that she could resist his stare. This was a unique anomaly and it made him very different from other ellon. His eyes looked as if two of the brightest stars had fallen from the heavens. They were silver with just a hint of blue, almost grey, mixed in. No one had ever seen eyes like his before. His enemies all warned each other not to become caught in his gaze or they would be paralyzed and death would be swift. Others of his own kind found that they could not look him in the eyes for long, saying that there was something mystical or magical and feared what would happen if they looked too long. Women could not resist his charms once his glare captured them. Once Feredir set his sights, she would do anything just to keep his silvery depths focused upon her.

He was accomplishing this now as he drew the attention of the beautiful maiden in his arms. She found she could not turn away from him. Her voice had left her moments ago and she could no longer protest his advances. Unfortunately, there had been a very good reason for her objections, which Feredir realized when he leaned in to kiss the chosen beauty. The sound of someone clearing his throat broke the spell and the girl gasped as she looked over Feredir’s shoulder. The dark-haired ellon closed his eyes and prepared for what he would find standing behind him. It was not the first time and surely would not be the last that he would find himself on the opposite end of a huge hairy fist lunging at him. At least, that was what he expected to happen within the next few moments. He released the girl, who backed away from the scene. Then he slowly turned to meet his attacker. His elvish ears identified the sound of muscles tightening and knuckles cracking. Before he could come around to face the giant of a man standing behind him, he felt the air move around him and ducked just moments before said fist made contact with his handsome face. He jumped back out of reach and finally saw just who it was that wanted to beat him to a pulp. A very large, broad shouldered, big muscled Gondorian stood there. His eyes were wild and seemed to shoot daggers at Feredir. The young elf put on his best smile.

“Here now, I did not know she was taken. Let me buy you a mug and we will forget this happened. No harm done, eh?” he said charmingly.

The man was not buying any of it. In fact, he bared his teeth in a snarl just before hurtling himself at his much smaller opponent. He forgot to take into account the stealth-like reflexes of a wood elf engaged in a fight. Feredir leapt out of the way and the man crashed into a nearby table. Anyone near the fight quickly got out of the way. The giant regained his stance and came around to look at Feredir once more, who was still standing in the same spot as before. Again, the Gondorian charged at the elf. Feredir smiled slightly and whispered to himself. “Here we go then.”

The thing about enormous oafs like this one was that they always showed you their next move. Really, the Gondorian was no challenge for the young handsome elf. Feredir was actually enjoying himself. It had been a long while since he had gotten into a bar fight. This was just the thing he needed to get his mind off his troubles. He jumped and ducked with the greatest of ease, further frustrating his opponent. After a while, Feredir was becoming bored with the whole thing. He looked around and found his target, a table with a group of men playing cards. Perfect, he thought to himself. The elf led the giant in that direction. The man was angered to the point he was not thinking, if he was ever thinking at all. Now all he needed was to throw a little grease on the fire.

“It’s a good thing you came along when you did mate. Had I gotten her away from the dance floor--.” He stopped mid-sentence and gave the man a ridiculous wink. This sent the giant charging at him like a bull. Feredir stood still, not moving a muscle until the very last moment. The Gondorian went crashing into the table behind Feredir, sending cards and money flying everywhere. This was just the diversion Feredir needed to take the attention off him. The table full of men dusted off the splinters from the smashed table and glared at the giant. The bar became deathly quiet. Then a chorus of knuckle cracking broke the silence. The leader of the card-playing group turned his eyes to slits.

“I was winning that hand,” he growled. With that said, the bar exploded into a wild ruckus of flying fists and falling bodies. As if a wave was created by a disturbance on a calm lake, the fighting spread from one table to the next until every man in the place was involved.

Feredir looked around, satisfied with his accomplishment and casually strolled to the bar, dodging the occasional flying mug on the way. He picked up a stool that had been knocked over and had a seat. The bar maid, a black-haired, olive skinned woman, came over to where he sat. The blouse she wore looked two sizes too small, cinched at her midriff and the tops of her bosom pushed up and almost spilling out. She had a thin waist and ample hips, a curvaceous dark skinned beauty.

Feredir smiled charmingly and she gave him a curious look. “A glass of your finest wine, please,” he said sweetly.

The bar maid bent down to retrieve the bottle of wine, giving Feredir a full view of her cleavage. He knew exactly where she kept the best wine, which is why he ordered it in the first place. She stood back up only to find his silver eyes glued to her body. With a slender finger, she touched his chin, tilting his head up to meet his gaze. She cocked her head and raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t suppose you had anything to do with this?” she said accusingly.

“All I did was engage in a dance with a beautiful maiden,” he replied, the corners of his mouth upturned in a wicked smile. “And how is my favorite wine wench this evening?”

“Making my fair share of tips until you came in and distracted my cliental,” she answered sarcastically. She glanced around the bar. “Well, my services will not be needed for a while.” She turned around and retrieved two wine glasses from the rack behind her. “Care to go somewhere a little quieter?” she said waving the glasses in the air.

Feredir bit his lower lip, picked up the bottle of wine and nodded, gesturing to a set of stairs that led to some rooms on the second level. Then his sights came back to her as he looked at her seductively. “After you, Feona?” She nodded and smiled wantonly. “I do hope you’ll reconsider the use of that glorious divan this time,” he added.

“We’ll see,” she answered as she came around the other side of the bar. The place was still in chaos and no one noticed when they slipped upstairs, Feredir following close behind and pinching her along the way.

* * *

A very sated Feona was leaning across the tall end of her burgundy divan, panting and out of breath. Feredir was kneeling behind her, resting his head on her back. Both of their long bodies glistened with sweat after a strenuous session of lovemaking. Feredir’s long black hair clung to his face as he tried to catch his breath. “Mmm,” he purred, his chest rumbling against her back. He pulled from her and sat on the luxurious seat.

Feona did the same, joining him on the divan, one of her legs draped across his. “I’m glad we tried that,” she panted, still out of breath. “I had no idea that would feel so amazing.”

Feredir laughed. “And you were worried about your good couch.” He watched as Feona got up and strolled across the bedroom to a table that held a pitcher of water. His eyes traveled across her sculptured rear, thin waist and long legs. Had it not been for her dark skin, she could almost pass for an elleth. Her black hair hung half way down her back, swaying back and forth as she moved. She poured two glasses of water and turned around, walking seductively back to Feredir. Her big full breasts jiggled as she came to him, brown erect nipples ready to be assaulted again. He found the v-shaped patch of curly black hair at her juncture to be most erotic, something only humans had. His own was dark like the hair on his head, but not thick or curly, more like fine fuzz. Feona loved to trace a finger along the thin trail that ran up the middle of his pelvis. She too found him to be quite mesmerizing when given the opportunity to explore his naked form.

She handed him the glass of water and watched as he swallowed it in just a few gulps. He sat the glass on a side table and spread his arms out across the back of the divan, looking up at her with intense silver eyes. Feona sipped and sat her glass down too. Then she sat on his lap, straddling his legs and facing him. She ran her hands along the length of his arms, down to his wrists and back up to his shoulders. Her slender fingers felt along his chest and abdomen, tracing every muscle as it rippled beneath his smooth skin. He was a wood elf there was no doubt. She thought about how quickly he could go from relaxed to rigid, from calmness and trust to deadly stealth with no warning what so ever. This thought excited her and her hips started to writhe against his thighs as her hands still explored his magnificently toned body. She allowed herself to be captured by his wanton stare. Oh, those eyes were like none she had ever scene. To have him looking at her like this made her body come alive. Then, as if he had read her mind, Feredir went from his relaxed position to grabbing her waist and lifting her off his legs. She felt weightless in his grasp. He brought her forward and lowered her onto his awaiting arousal. Feona wondered how he could make love more than once and never lose his unlimbering stamina. He was ready at a moment’s notice and would not leave her until she was completely depleted of any energy or use of muscles.

Feredir thrust up into her, holding her by the hips and pulling her down on him. He was very well endowed, as most elves seemed to be. Being a bar maid for the past ten years, Feona had her share of elvish lovers, but none were as raw and aggressive as Feredir. He was her first and only half-elf. The mixture of elf and human blood was what made him so alluring, and when he came by her tavern she made sure he was always well taken care of. Right now though, he was taking care of her.

Suddenly, he got up, taking her with him and remaining buried in her warmth. He carried her to the bed and they lay down. He hovered above her, his long hair surrounding them like a curtain of midnight sky. Feredir began moving inside her again. Feona’s legs came up and he bent them against her chest. Her fingers twisted in his soft waves, pulling him down for a kiss. His rhythm increased and soon he was pounding into her body. Feona moaned as her climax took her for a second time. Feredir pulled from her and came to rest at her side. His fingers never stopped their ministrations and continued to circle her dark course curls, moist with her essence. He barely gave her a moment to catch her breath and he was up and standing at the edge of the bed. “When did he move?” she thought silently, never even feeling the bed jostle or a rustle of the sheets. Still panting, she raised her head and found him standing there, fully erect, sweat beading on his chest, muscles moving beneath his firm skin as he breathed rapidly. His eyes pierced her all the way to her soul.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growled as his lips spread into a vicious smile. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her to the edge of the bed. Then, taking her by the hips, he raised her lower body off the bed. Only her shoulders and head remained on the mattress. He plunged deep, making her gasp at the intrusion of his wide girth. He moved deliberately in and out, pulling out slowly and thrusting hard as he pushed back into her depths. Somehow, Feona managed to bring herself up on her elbows. To be able to see his hardened length disappear into her writhing body made her even more excited, but to watch his face as he found his pleasure was pure bliss. Feredir could be warm and loving, but she liked him best when he was this sexual beast. He had given her satisfaction first, holding off until he was sure she was satiated. Then he would take his pleasure after suppressing himself time and time again.

“Come for me,” she demanded, watching his eyes close and his head throw back. His lips curled exposing shining white teeth.

The bed was moving, making the loose floorboards squeak loudly. Neither one knew that the fighting downstairs had ended a while ago, and now the patrons’ attention was focused on the rafters of the tavern ceiling. Men smiled, elbowing each other. Women sighed, wishing they were up there. And one slightly grumpy dwarf shook his head as dust and dirt fell from the rafters, landing in his tall mug of dark ale. “Elves!” he muttered, and drank from his glass anyway.

Feona watched this glorious creature as his climax peaked. He opened his mouth and released an animalistic yell as he spilled into her body. She chanted some foreign exclamation as she spoke in her native tongue of the far South. The rush of blood traveling through her body made her skin tingle. Every nerve was alive as Feredir touched her and she jumped and twisted involuntarily. The elf laughed to himself knowing he did what he set out to accomplish. He came to rest at her side, depleted of all his energy, rare for this half-elf. He gathered her into his arms, contouring himself against her back. Feona moaned and held his arm wrapped around her waist. “You are so amazing, Feredir.”

He moaned and smiled against her neck. “And you are absolutely beautiful, my wine wench.”

Feona laughed and turned in his arms to face him. She looked into his eyes, but noticed he would not look directly at her own. The time was past now. He had claimed his prize. There was no need for seduction anymore. She ran her hand through his hair. “You know if you ever decide you want to settle . . .” She regretted the words the moment they left her lips.

Feredir felt her embarrassment and kissed her lips. It was enough to dismiss the moment. He watched her as she drifted off into a deep gratifying sleep. Then he got up from her bed and went to a small window across the room. He peered out through the sheer curtains, looking out across Ithilien. Here was someone who would take him as he was, rough and unpredictable. Yet, he knew he could never love her, not fully and unconditionally. Feona was beautiful and kind. She was able to keep up with his hungry desire and would give him as much pleasure as she received, every night probably. Still, that would not be enough. There was one element missing, one he had never felt before . . . love. He was not sure he would ever find it, or even if he wanted to. Being a warrior was his top priority right now. It was enough. Love was overrated anyway.

He scolded himself for thinking such thoughts. No, he was fine just the way he was and as soon as he got back to the border, he would be even better. All he had to do was get past these next few months as prison warden, and then he could get back to his normal life. He smiled to himself, satisfied with his answer, but deep down he knew there was something still missing, very deep though it was.


	19. Healer's Apprentice

Chapter 19 - Healer’s Apprentice

 

It was Terrwyn’s first day in Ithilien and already she had met more elves than she could have ever imagined she would in her lifetime. Now Captain Glandur was taking her to meet with the Healer. This would be where she would work and learn while held in the city awaiting her Rohirrim escort back home. Glandur explained what the elves expected of her while she remained in Ithilien. Though their idea of imprisonment seemed a bit relaxed, hidden eyes constantly watched her. Soon she would meet her guard, assigned to her at all times as long as she was outside of her barracks. In the meantime, she would meet with the Master Healer.

They arrived at his home in just a short while. The house stood amongst other buildings on one of the many streets, a typical two-story home that reminded her of the apartment she shared with Lindiel and Rosloch in Minas Tirith. The ground floor made up the business part of the home while the second floor was the living quarters. Tall windows on either side of a door faced her now. Terrwyn looked up and noticed three individual windows above, pretty light colored curtains dressing them. It seemed very cozy on the outside.

Glandur opened the door for her and they strolled inside. This was obviously the patient waiting area. It was a wide-open room with chairs lined up on one wall. There were two doors leading off to other areas. One had a label that read healing rooms. The other door had no label but was obviously an entrance to a back area, probably off limits to patients. Glandur led her now through this door.

It opened up to a work area with shelves lining each side. There were jars of every kind upon them, labeled with their ingredients. Running the length of the shelves at about waist level was a long workbench. They held mixing bowls and bottles, cutting areas and crushing utensils. This must be where the medicines were prepared. Terrwyn looked up. Above each section of self was a window. They were not tall, but very long and let in enough light to illuminate the work area. She looked behind her to the door they just passed through and noticed a wooden table and chairs. It looked as if it had been in someone’s kitchen at some point. Now it was used as a sitting area. She imagined the Healer ate many meals here during busy times and times of war and such. Between the small table and the shelves was a swinging door, another entry into the area that housed the healing rooms. The Healer would go through here often to check on his patients. Overall, the room had a certain coziness to it.

Opposite of the door in which Terrwyn and Glandur entered through, there was another door leading into a back room. That door slowly opened and the Master Healer stepped through, a smile adorning his face. Master Curuven was his name, Glandur had mentioned. He was thousands of years in age, but to Terrwyn, he looked no older than Rosloch. She could tell he was very wise and if she paid attention, she could learn a lot from him. His hair was long and straight, the color of ripe wheat. He was slender and tall. His blue almond-shaped eyes were set wide above high cheekbones. When he smiled, the slightest of crinkles appeared in the outer corners.

When Glandur introduced them, Curuven held an elegant hand out to her. She watched as he slowly unfurled his lengthy fingers towards her. She gave him her hand and he gently wrapped his around it and pulled her towards him. He seemed to be examining her, though she was unsure of the reason for such an inspection. Then he smiled, his thin lips staying together.

“Yes, I think you are right Captain Glandur. I think she will do just fine here. So tell me, my dear, how much do you know about plant life as healing aids?”

“I’m afraid I know nothing of it. I was merely a street vender in Minas Tirith selling flowers to the residents,” she answered.

“Then you already have some knowledge of the types of plants. Some of them are used for medicinal purposes when boiled. Some of them, their roots can be crushed into a paste and spread on wounds to help heal faster.” Curuven paused and laughed silently. “They are for more than decorating a room, my dear girl.” Then the Healer turned to Glandur and bowed. “I believe the Lady Terrwyn will be fine on her own for a while. I will keep watch over her, if you do not mind, Captain.”

“Not at all. I will leave her here and let you get started with your teachings early. I will be back in a while to escort you back to your barracks,” Glandur said, bowing to Curuven and exiting the workplace.

Master Curuven smiled and led her to the last door she had yet to step through. “What is back here?” she asked.

“This is where you will be working,” he said and pushed the door open. This was a fairly small room with a wood burning stove and many pots and pans hanging on the wall behind it. Cast iron cauldrons made up a black stack in one corner. Empty bottles of different shapes and sizes lined a small workbench. Above that were more shelves and more bottles and jars. Running along the ceiling was string for hanging freshly washed rags and bandages. To the back of the room was another door, this one with a window. Terrwyn peered outside and saw a beautiful garden used to grow herbs in the warmer months. Now it seemed deserted except for a few winter growing plants. To the left of the back door was a set of stairs that led to the second floor. That must be where the healer lived she thought. 

The Master Healer got Terrwyn to work right away, saying that busy hands made for sharper minds. She was excited to think of learning something about plants and their healing abilities. Unfortunately, she found out rather quickly the reason the Healer needed her here. Her first tasks were not to crush leaves or boil roots. No, her first experience with healing was learning how to properly wash and sterilize rags and bandages. Curuven showed her around the back room where all the necessary equipment needed for this was stored. He admitted it was the ugliest part of his job and one he detested, which was why she was back here now, standing over a hot boiling pot of water stirring rags and such with an oversized stick. It took up most of her time and the day was half over by the time she was done. She was just finishing with the last of the rags, hanging them to dry, when the Healer came in to check on her, which he did often.

“My, you work quickly. Most others took all day to do this,” he said. He walked over to where the finished cloths hung. “Let’s see here,” he said inspecting them. “You have done a fine job, Terrwyn.”

“Thank you Master Curuven,” she answered. There were a few tendrils of red hair stuck to her sweaty face and wrinkles on the tips of her fingers.

“Come then, I think you are due for a break,” the Healers said motioning for her to follow him back to the main part of his workplace. On the small table was a basket. She could see the end of a loaf of bread sticking up over the rim. Curuven led Terrwyn to it and she had a seat on one of the wooden chairs.

She noticed how very tall and slender the Master Healer was, especially when she sat down and he was still standing. He towered above her, making her feel like a small child again. He reached into the basket and pulled out the loaf of bread, a variety of fruits, cheese and a bottle of sweet fruit juice. Then he opened a nearby cabinet and took out two silver plates and two matching silver mugs, placing one of each in front of Terrwyn.

“My wife brought this earlier. She said I need to take care that you do not go hungry,” he smiled sweetly and laughed.

“Oh, you are married?” she asked surprised.

“Yes, for many countless years,” he answered dreamily. “I will never forget the day we met. I was just starting my training as a healer back then. She was picking berries for her mother. Neither of us knew the other one was there. Then a wild boar came charging out of the underbrush. I went running as fast as my legs would carry me when suddenly I tripped over something. I thought it was a log, but soon I found out it was a beautiful young maiden. Let me tell you, she was none too happy to see me. Not only had I knocked her into a patch of mud and dirtied her dress, but I had ruined every berry she picked that morning. She was angry and she would not listen to any apology I could give. Still, something about her would not let my mind rest. Instead of gathering the proper herbs for my Master Healer, I spent the rest of the day picking every kind of berry I could find. I got in quite a lot of trouble with my teacher, but my fair maiden finally accepted my apology. We were inseparable after that,” He paused and laughed as he looked at a gold ring on his finger. “I suppose we still are.”

Terrwyn’s heart filled with the joy of knowing such long lasting love existed. “She must be very beautiful then.”

“Ai, Limil is the most beautiful elleth in all of Arda,” he said, pouring the sweet nectar into their mugs.

Terrwyn said no more and ate silently, thinking about falling in love. She wondered if she would ever have the chance to experience it. The dark cloud that hung over her returned as she looked to her future.

Curuven felt the shift in her mood. As sweet as she seemed and as pretty as she was, it was easy to forget the reason she was here in the first place. He knew of her troubled past, though it seemed so unusual. She was not typical of any prisoner he had seen. The Captain had spoken to him about the girl. Glandur felt this too.

“The past cannot be changed,” Curuven said after a long silence. “There is no point in revisiting it so often.”

Terrwyn swirled a grape around on her plate. No matter where she put it, it always ended up back in the center. “And it does not matter what I do now, my path will lead me to the same place.”

“You must believe that there is justice. Otherwise, why would men have their laws?”

Terrwyn sighed. “The truth can be easily manipulated, Master Curuven. It is my word against theirs and the law is on their side now. I have no one.”

Curuven reached across the table and took her hand. When she did not look at him, he squeezed it gaining her attention. His ancient blue eyes bared into her young green ones. “I believe you,” he whispered.

“But you do not even know me,” she argued.

“I do not need to know you. I can see it within you and I know you speak the truth. You must tap in to this inner light. It is buried deep, but if you can find it and bring it to the surface, justice will be served.”

There was a knock on the door. Curuven got up and patted her shoulder. “Finish up, my dear. There is still much to do.” He exited the workroom where they were and went up front to the waiting area. While he was gone, Terrwyn finished her mid-day meal. After a few minutes, Curuven came back.

“It seems you are quite popular. There is someone here to see you,” he said smiling.

Terrwyn was confused. Who, besides Captain Glandur could be here to see her? In walked a familiar face, which answered her question. She immediately jumped up from her chair and stood at attention. Not knowing what else to do, she bowed her head, looking at the floor. “Lord Legolas, it is an honor.”

Her greeting confused Legolas. Once, there had been no formalities between them, but that was before she knew of his royal standing. He glanced to Curuven and cocked an eyebrow questioningly. The Master Healer shrugged his shoulders.

Legolas smiled. “Lord Legolas? An honor?” he teased. “What happened to just a plain friendly greeting?”

“I was not a captive in your lands then. I would not disrespect you in any way, my lord,” she answered seriously.

Legolas glanced at Master Curuven again. Without saying a word, the healer knew what the Prince was asking, and Curuven quietly left the room to give Legolas and Terrwyn a moment alone. She was embarrassed to see him now and busied herself by picking up the plates and cups. This would have worked well to her advantage except, she did not know where to take them to. She stood there, spinning her head one way and then the other. Finally, Legolas reached out and took the plates from her, sitting them down on a nearby counter. He watched as Terrwyn nervously avoided him.

“Terrwyn, please look at me,” he pleaded, very out of character for a lord she thought.

“I am sorry if I have ever misled you, my lord,” she whispered while her eyes gazed deliberately at her feet. “I am sure you do not visit the other prisoners. I do not deserve this either.”

Legolas wrapped his hands around her forearms. “You are my friend first, Lady Terrwyn. When I first met you, I felt no threat and I feel none now. But I do want you to know that I am here to help you.”

“Help me? No, I do not think there is anything that can be done,” she said with no hope.

Legolas wrinkled his brow. “Do you think we would just turn you over to your authorities and not seek the truth?” He raised her chin with his slender fingers until their eyes met. “You have more people on your side than you might think. Elves can sense injustice, and we feel that you have been wronged, though your situation will be difficult to prove.” He released her now that she looked at him by her own will. Then he smiled warmly and her heart fluttered. This was the reason his kind had always drawn her. No matter the situation, elves could find the good in it.

“I’m not sure I understand, my lord,” Terrwyn replied quite confused by all of this.

“My dear Terrwyn, I discussed your story with my wife a long while ago, before you were arrested even. We both concluded that things were not as they seemed. I was the one who told her to send you here where you would be under my protection and the protection of the elves. We believe you, sweet Terrwyn. You are no murderer and anyone put in your place would have tried to defend themselves.” Legolas paused when he saw a single tear escape the corner of her eye. He reached out and wiped it with his thumb. “Captain Glandur, Master Curuven, we all want to help you. We have devised a plan to prolong your stay here in Ithilien. A letter has already been sent to your King requesting that you be housed here at least until the spring arrives. I know him personally, fought in the war with Eomer King. He is fair and just. I believe he will agree to the terms.”

To know Legolas was a friend to her King gave her chills. “Then you can speak to him and tell him the truth,” she said excitedly.

Legolas lowered his head. “I am afraid I cannot do that. This matter is between you and your lands. I have no authority in matters out of my realm. I may not use my royal standing to persuade things one way or the other. However, we elves still have ways of gathering information when need be.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” she said slightly baffled. “What information?”

“That is what we need to concentrate on. You said Bregmund was going to trade the jewels for some of Harad’s land. If we can just find someone that can prove this contract existed, then I believe all charges against you would be dropped.”

Terrwyn was hopeful, but there was no one she knew of that might know about this and those that did were dead. As she wracked her brain trying to come up with a solution, Legolas could sense her faith in his resolution begin to dwindle. “There is no one, Legolas. The only one who knew was my foster father Alric, and he has long passed from this world. And the other two men will keep their mouths shut, least they want to be jailed.”

He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. “Sweet Terrwyn, I promise you that while you are in our care, not a single elf that knows you will stop looking for a solution to this. You are not alone. We are on your side and will do all we can to amend this. Meanwhile, all you need to do is what you are already doing. Master Curuven will take good care of you. Learn from him. He is very wise and does not share his knowledge very often. If you are truly interested in this art then there is no better teacher. He sees something in you, a spark for this kind of occupation. Otherwise he would have dismissed you from the very beginning.”

Legolas released her and Terrwyn smiled, feeling a bit of confidence return to her. “I am interested in learning about healing.”

“Good, then it is settled,” said Master Curuven from the door. No one had heard him enter the workroom. “Now Prince Legolas, if you will allow me to get back to my student, I believe she has mastered sterilization and is ready to learn the next step in healing, cleaning and labeling bottles.”

Legolas laughed. “It would seem you have a long way to go yet, dear Terrwyn.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You are in our care now. Do not consider yourself a prisoner any longer, but a student.” Then he squeezed her hand. “And a friend.”

“Thank you, Legolas. It has been a long time since I felt like I really belonged anywhere,” she said and soon she was back to boiling water.

* * *

Last night after she was finished for the day, Captain Glandur led her to the women’s barracks. Now it was morning and Terrwyn woke early ready to get her day started. She knew she would have to report to the Master Healer soon, and that her new warden would be there to take her to him. She had an uneasy feeling about this guard, something she never thought she would say about an elf. Their kind was still new and mysterious to her. The only vision of an elf she had ever had was the chestnut male from her childhood. She had built him up so much in her mind that she imagined every elf to be like him. Now she realized they were no different from humans. Some were very kind, some were stern and some were unpredictable, which was the feeling she got from . . . whatever his name was. She had forgotten with being so nervous yesterday.

Her sleep was restless but she felt better knowing that someone was fighting for her now. She no longer felt alone, but she still wondered why the elves treated her so differently. They were all very kind and she truly felt welcomed.

There was a knock at her door and the lock clicked open. In walked the black-haired elf she had seen the day she arrived. He was dressed in a black tunic, belted at the waist, and grey leggings. His long black hair hung down to the top of his waistband and had a slight waviness to it. He was absolutely gorgeous, Terrwyn thought. Still, something about him told her he was not exactly thrilled to be here. He looked at her with a stern expression, much like the gate guard that originally brought her into the city.

“Are you ready yet?” he asked as he glanced around the women’s barracks. He had never been here before. His eyes came back to look at Terrwyn in her white shirt and tan leggings. She felt that he looked at her a little too long and too hard. The way he looked at her made her skin tingle, but she was not sure if this was a good thing yet or not.

“Yes, I am ready,” she answered. The truth was she had been ready for a while. She wanted to make sure she was doing everything correctly and that included being up and ready when her escort showed.

The elven guard opened the barracks door, holding it for her as she exited. As she passed him, she noticed that he had a certain scent, like most elves she had met so far. His was more prominent though, reminding her of the first day of summer in a lush fern forest. She did not know how to explain it or why his was stronger, but she liked it.

They walked along the street in silence, Terrwyn in front and her guard following. After a while, she looked over her shoulder and spoke. “Will I have a different guard every day or will you be with me longer.”

“I am assigned to you for the length of your stay unless otherwise directed by the Captain,” he answered.

“Then might I know your name? It seems I may be here for at least the winter season and it has not yet begun.” She smiled over her shoulder to him.

He did not answer right away, but then he sighed and spoke. “My name is Feredir, if you must know.”

Terrwyn waited for him to ask her name, but he did not. It seemed he was only here to do his duty, like the gate guard. Still, something prompted her to continue. “That is a strong name. What does it mean?”

“It means that I am your warden and that’s all you need to know,” he said. It was obvious he did not want to talk to her or get to know her better. Terrwyn left it at that and the rest of the walk to the healer’s quarters was silent.

She noticed how quiet his footsteps were. Actually, he did not make a sound and a few times Terrwyn glanced over her shoulder to see if he was still there. He was, with a serious face, though very handsome just the same.

They finally arrived at Master Curuven’s office. Feredir led her inside. The Master Healer was sitting at his desk and smiled warmly when he saw Terrwyn. “Ah, there you are. Ready to get the day started, my dear?” he chimed. At least the Healer was in good spirits today.

“Good morning, Master Curuven. I was up early. Those cots in the women’s barracks are not very comfortable, but at least it’s better than a stable floor,” she said laughing at her own comment. Master Curuven looked at her curiously as did Feredir. “Never mind. So what do you need me to do today?”

“Oh, there are a number of things to be sterilized today, and we need to get ready for some possible patients. Word has come to me that there was some activity at the borders last night. All of the injuries were minor, but they will need some stitches and such,” the Healer informed her.

At the mention of the border, Feredir perked up. “Did they say who or how many attacked our troops?”

Terrwyn turned when she heard the desperation in his voice and the look of concern on his face. Master Curuven gave him a warm reassuring smile. “I was not told of their numbers, but from what I have been told of the injuries, it was not many.”

Terrwyn filed this information away for later conversation with her guard and got to work right away. Feredir took a seat at the small table where she had her first meal with Master Curuven. She was surprised to see him stay, but this was his job she supposed. He did not seem very happy to be there and the information about the border attack might have been the reason. After a while, the Master Healer gave Feredir a reprieve, telling him he could go meet the injured at the city gates. Feredir was out the door faster than lightening.

“That seemed to perk him up,” Terrwyn commented. “He did not look comfortable sitting still for so long.”

Master Curuven smiled. “Feredir is ambitious, maybe a little too much.” As he spoke, he handed her a bunch of vials to clean. Some had residue from the liquids that were recently stored in them. Being that the Healer knew ahead of time what the majority of injuries were, he could make up extra medicines. This required disposing of some tonics left inside and sanitizing the small bottles. It would mean another morning of working in a steaming back room too. Terrwyn did not complain. She was beginning to feel thankful for Rhavaniel’s decision to send her to Ithilien. Now that she spoke with Legolas, she did not feel so alone. The elves would help her fight for her freedom, though it still seemed like a long way off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that anyone reading this story is enjoying it. But it's hard to tell when no one reviews. Feedback is important to ALL authors. This is our only form of payment.


	20. Ruined Berries

Chapter 20 - Ruined Berries

There was a chill in the air. Autumn had finally given over to winter. Most of the beautiful colors that made Ithilien look as though it were on fire had now faded away to emptiness. The bare branches of the trees that lined the streets looked cold and dead. Evidence of new life was now exposed as many bird nests, long abandoned by their owners, dotted the vacant limbs. Still, life in the beautiful remade city was busy as people hurried here and there every morning.

It had been two weeks since Terrwyn arrived. Every day was the same. She got up, washed, dressed and met her guard. They walked silently along the way to Master Curuven’s workplace. The few times she tried to strike up a conversation with Feredir, all she got in return were one-word answers. Every day he waited at the small table until the Healer dismissed him, only to have him come back later in the day to escort Terrwyn back to her barracks. She wondered where the dark-haired elf went during these times. She had learned from Master Curuven that he was a border guard, and because of something he did, he was charged with being her warden. According to the Healer, it was an adequate punishment for a warrior to be taken away from his troops and the border, and even more so for Feredir. No wonder he did not want to talk to her, she thought. Just as she was being punished by having to work every day boiling rags and such, Feredir was being punished by having to watch over her.

Terrwyn had just finished hanging the last of the bandages when Master Curuven called her up to the front. He was holding a basket filled with shears, a spade and gloves. She smiled to her employer. “Am I to winterize you garden next?”

“No, my dear,” he answered with a chuckle. “Do you remember all the different plants and herbs we have talked about?”

Terrwyn nodded as a slight twinge of excitement coursed through her body. Could it be that he was sending her outside of the steamy back room?

“It is time to test that knowledge. I want you to go out and gather these plants,” he said handing her a small book. He marked all the pages of the plants he needed. “Now, some of them you cannot tell since their leaves have fallen. You must pay close attention to where they grow and how they grow. These here,” he said flipping to a certain page. “They grow in a close-knit circle and are found under this type of tree. Their leaves are spent now, but their roots are very important. Everything you need to find is marked in this book. Oh,” he paused and turned to a rack that held some coats. “Forgive me dear, I sometimes forget that humankind is more susceptible to the cold. You will need these. It is quite chilly today.” He handed her a long grey woman’s cloak with a hood. “It was made by the elves. It looks lite but it will keep the wind out and keep you warm.”

Terrwyn took the cloak and slipped it on over her shoulders, tying it closed in the front. She found the holes on the sides where she stuck her arms through. “It fits perfect and it is surprisingly warm.” She took the basket from the Healer and the book.

Just then, Feredir walked in from the front door. “Ah, here is your escort now. Feredir will go with you since you cannot be alone. He knows where to take you to find these plants. Remember though, you are still a prisoner. Do not stray far.”

“I understand, Master Curuven. I’ll not be trying anything except digging and snipping,” she smiled.

Terrwyn found the first of the plants on her list easily. As she went along, she talked to Feredir, but she felt as if she were really only talking to herself. All of the elves she had met so far were really very kind. Feredir was not cruel, but he was distant. He was here to do a job and nothing else.

“I wish you would join me in some conversation,” she finally said, tired of the silence. “If we are to be tied at the hip, you could at least say something more than yes or no. Oh, or my personal favorite,” Here she put her hands on her hips and deepened her voice to imitate him. “’That would be none of your business.’”

Feredir had done his best to avoid any kind of conversation with the prisoner, but she was beginning to wear on his nerves, especially now that they were out alone. “Were you speaking to me? I thought you just liked hearing the sound of your own voice.” He straightened his posture and crossed his arms, looking down his nose at the red head. She was on her knees, digging in the cold dirt, trying to release a plant from its earthy home. She seemed clumsy and it irritated him. Her long red waves were always falling into her green eyes. Wait . . . did he say green? Did he actually notice the color of her eyes? Well, how could he help it? She was always staring at him. He couldn’t deny the fact that she was rather lovely . . . for a human. Still, she was here for a reason. She was an inmate, a ward of the city.

“What did you do anyway?” he asked bluntly.

Terrwyn looked up from her work. From down here he towered above her in his black pants and fitted black tunic. It was a very striking look for a fair skinned elf and he seemed to glow in contrast to his clothes and hair. Now that he was looking directly at her, she could see more detail of his silver eyes. They were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. “You tell me what you did first, and I’ll tell you why I’m here,” she said trying to lure him into conversation. So far, it was the most words he had spoken in a single sentence.

Feredir’s face lit up with pride. “I killed an enemy.”

Terrwyn looked him straight in his eyes. “So did I.”

He creased his eyebrows and looked at her curiously. “You . . . killed . . . someone?” He waited for her to expand on it, but she merely nodded and went back to digging. “But look at you. You are so thin and frail. Oh wait, did you talk him to death?” he laughed.

Terrwyn slowly stood up and Feredir noticed how tall she really was. She was not as tall as he was, but she was close to an elleth’s height. Then her eyes turned to slits and she glared at him. “No I did not ‘talk him to death,’” she said mocking him again. “I am not frail, and if I look thin it’s because of the slop they give me every night. And just so you know, it was self-defense.”

So, Feredir had found a way to irritate her as she had been doing to him. This made it all the more interesting now. “If it was self-defense, then why are you here? You know, you are not the first prisoner I have had dealings with, though you are much better to look at than an orc. Still, you are all the same. You all claim innocence, but it is all lies.” He moved around her as she stood still, her chest heaving as she was breathing heavy with anger. He was touching a raw nerve and he liked the reaction he was getting from the hot headed female. “So, what did he do? Did you catch him with another woman? Did you walk in on him and some other in the throes of passion and lost your right mind? Hmm, what a way to meet your fate, eh? Death while climaxing.” Feredir stopped and made a rude gesture, his body falsely convulsing as he moaned. Then he crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth, still with a smile on his face.

Terrwyn was shocked by his comments and his behavior. “How dare you speak to me in such a way. Who do you think you are? You sir are no elf!”

“You are only half right,” he responded quickly.

Terrwyn glared at him. “Then the other half must be orc,” she said, quite proud of her come back, then she got back to work.

Feredir had seen his share of feisty females over the years, but none as gutsy as this one. “You seem to forget that you are the prisoner here.”

Without glancing up, she answered dryly. “Trust me, I have not forgotten that bit of information in the least. I am reminded of it every time I dress in these drab clothes, or take the long walk to Master Curuven’s office. What I will not let it do anymore is break my spirit. You can believe what you want to believe, but I know what happened. I know I did the only thing I could do to save myself and that I have been falsely accused. If that is good enough for your own lord, then it should be good enough for you.”

“I can make my own conclusions, and I say you are my ward. As long as you are charged with this crime, I will not let up on you or trust you.” He was getting quite tired of her attitude.

“Fine then, think what you want, just do it without speaking,” she said, digging vigorously in the dirt. She was not paying attention and ended up chopping the roots of the plant to bits. She threw the spade down and sat still on her knees, trying to regain her composure. Why had she let this elf get under her skin? And of all the elves in Ithilien, why did she have to end up with the only one who behaved more human than elvish. Now he was chuckling lightly to himself, satisfied with the amount of irritation he had caused.

* * *

Terrwyn had been out every day of the week harvesting from the early winter plants requested by Master Curuven. She found it was difficult to dig for some of them. Their roots were very delicate. If they were not handled properly, they would be ruined and so far, Terrwyn had ruined more than she would like.

“I suggest you move on to someplace new for that type of plant. It seems you have desecrated that one too. Master Curuven will be none too pleased by its condition,” the elf said in an aggravatingly cheerful way.

“Well, if you think you can do better then come and do it yourself,” she answered. So far, the only thing Feredir found any joy in was hounding her and making her life miserable.

“I believe I’ll just stay here.” He climbed the tree behind him with the greatest of easy, Terrwyn noticed. Only an elf could leap up into a tree with such little effort. “Don’t forget Lag, I can see far from here and my arrows travel even further.” This was a name the guards used for the prisoners, but Feredir used it because of her inferior human abilities to do anything in a timely manner, or at least in the manner he would do things. She seemed slow to him, always lagging behind and taking a long time to do anything.

Terrwyn hated the term and pretended to ignore him as she walked off to find another plant to harvest, mumbling under her breath. She decided she would not go out of her way to speak to Feredir. She was pretty good at coming up with quick comebacks, but no matter what she said, Feredir always had an answer. Nothing good came out of his mouth anyways so why make matters worse.

“How could one of elvish blood and beauty be such a warg?” she asked herself. He did mention that he was only half-elvish. The other half was definitely man, and he seemed to favor that side of his personality. It was probably a good thing since she knew how to handle herself around his type.

As she worked, she thought about his background. He must have quite a story to tell. Half-elves were rare, even in the Forth Age when there were more elf/human couplings. Most did not have children because of the elves that were sailing into the West. Unfortunately for her, Feredir’s parents did not abide by that fact and now she was stuck with their horrid offspring as her guard.

She was not paying attention to what she was doing, and was getting a little close to the edge of a sharp drop in the landscape. Feredir, who was still sitting in his tree, glanced towards her every so often. Somehow, he knew she would not run off. Even if she did, he was the best shot in Ithilien and knew just where to strike her without causing any permanent damage. In a way, he hoped she would try something, just to make his job a little more interesting. 

Feredir watched her as she was bending over picking some late growing berries from a bush. She seemed to learn quick and had some knowledge of plants, good for a healer. He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to her to end up in Ithilien’s prison. He had overheard Master Curuven telling her how the elves would help her fight these charges brought against her. Feredir had not known her for very long, but his intuition was strong. She did not seem the cold blooded murdering type and she was probably telling the truth about being falsely accused. However, he did not want to tell her that or she would never stop trying to talk to him. He was used to females throwing themselves at him and wanting him for nothing more than a quick night of heavenly bliss, but none had ever wanted to just talk to him about the simple everyday things. A part of him thought it might be nice to strike up a civilized conversation with a beautiful woman without it leading to him riding her into oblivion. Actually, Terrwyn did not irritate him as much as he led on. It was because this was his punishment, one he did not think he deserved, that he had little interest in her. It was not her fault. She just happened to be the newest prisoner.

“You are getting a little close to the edge, Lag,” he yelled to her, knowing the name would get under her skin.

Terrwyn cringed at the sound of his voice. “I see the edge,” she yelled back, then under her breath she cursed him for calling her such.

Feredir was getting a little nervous. She was awfully close to the edge, and from where he was, he could not tell how far of a drop it was. He climbed down from his tree and walked in her direction. “Do you have to pick from there?” he said, watching her stretch out to a bush growing out over the edge of the cliff. “Go find another plant to harvest and get back from there.”

“I know what I am doing and this one is full of berries. Master Curuven said he needed as many of these that I could find,” she answered continuing to reach and stretch.

Feredir could see the sand beneath her feet giving way. “Alright Lag, that is close enough. Get back from there,” he shouted as he approached.

Terrwyn rolled her eyes. “Honestly, if you call me that one more time, I’m going to--.” Suddenly, the ground slid away under her feet. She yelled and grabbed the bush, now dangling over the edge of the cliff.

Feredir was still far away, but he could see that she slipped. “Terrwyn!” he yelled in desperation and fear.

“Help me!” she called back as she tried with all her might to hang onto the bush.

Feredir ran as fast as he could until he was to her. He was afraid she was about to lose her grip and fall hundreds of feet to her--.

“Oh for Eru’s sake,” he complained looking over the edge. “You are only a few feet from the bottom. You might have known that if you looked down.” He paused and smiled. “Did I not say you were too close to the edge?” Looking down, he could see that the drop was not much and if she did fall, it was likely her pride was the only thing that would be damaged.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Help me up,” she demanded.

Feredir did not move, but laughed. “Maybe I should let you fall. It will teach you a lesson.

Terrwyn was humiliated and tired. “Fine, you were right. I was too close to the edge. Now please just help me up.

Feredir reached out for her hand and just as she was about to grab it, he pulled away, teasing her. “Oh, that was a close call.”

“You are being childish and we’ll both fall if you don’t stop,” she yelled. He reached out again and teased her for a second time. Terrwyn was beginning to lose her patience with him. The third time he reached out he did not pull away and she grabbed his hand. It was a very large and strong hand, long archer fingers and callouses.

“Alright then, let go of the branch and grab my other hand, but you’re going to have to use your feet to walk yourself up the rest of the way.” His voice was no longer irritating, but calm and soothing. It amazed her how quickly he seemed to change.

Terrwyn nodded and took a deep breath. She trusted that Feredir would not let go of her. Surprisingly enough, it did not take much to trust him, even after all the difficulties he caused her. “Here I go,” she notified him. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath, let go of the branch and grabbed his free hand.

“Very good. Now, I’ll pull you up while you use your feet to--.” Just as they thought they were out of harm’s way, the loose dirt and rock beneath Feredir’s feet started to give away. Terrwyn gasped and felt herself start to fall, pulling Feredir along with her when she did not let go. The elf managed to loosen one of his hands and reached for the edge of the drop off, hoping to catch the bush. Instead, he grabbed the basket of berries she had sat down next to the bush.

Terrwyn landed first, on her back as the air was knocked from her lungs. Then Feredir came down on top of her. Luckily, he braced himself and caught his weight with his hands on each side of the ground where she lay. They ended up face to face in very close proximity. Their eyes caught for a split second, his silver and her green. As if time slowed down, Terrwyn could feel every muscle in his body where he laid on top of her. His face was dirty and his hair a dusty mess, but it did not take away from his beauty.

Feredir had a similar experience, noticing how sleek and curvy her body felt beneath his. She was always hidden beneath the cloak Master Curuven gave her to keep warm and he had not noticed before. Her red wavy hair was unusually beautiful and made her look like she was always on fire. Then for a moment, they seemed to breathe in unison. Breaking the silence, Feredir spoke. “Are you alright, Terrwyn?” he whispered.

She was caught in his starlight eyes. “You called me by my name,” she said dreamily and dared to smile the tiniest bit. And then, as if the Valar themselves wanted to put an end to this rare moment they were sharing, it started raining down red berries. Finally, the basket landed on Feredir’s head with a definite thud.

It didn’t take long for reality to set back in as Terrwyn glanced left and right, seeing a full basket of berries ruined. “Get up,” she demanded, catching Feredir off guard. He was still memorizing her natural scent of wild grasses growing in summer. When he did not move, she shoved him in the chest. “Get off of me.”

Finally, Feredir realized the position they were in and rolled off her. She sat up immediately and looked around. “Ruined! They are all ruined. Do you know how long it took me to pick all of those?” she said, annoyed.

“I am sorry. I was trying to grab the bush and I guess I knocked the basket instead,” he explained.

“If you weren’t teasing and fooling around in the first place, then maybe we would not have both fallen.” She jumped up and desperately started picking up berries, but they were all squashed. “None of them are good.”

Feredir got to his feet and looked up. “We aren’t getting back up that way. We’ll have to walk around and find a place where we can get back up top. Come on. We have more berries to pick.”

Terrwyn looked at him curiously. “What do you mean by we? You never offered to help before.”

“Well, it is both our faults.”

“Both? I was perfectly capable of retrieving the berries before you distracted me.”

Feredir gave her a look. “I distracted you? I was trying to keep all of this from happening,” he said lifting his arms and gesturing to the place where they now stood. “Had you listened to me in the first place, we might be finished and heading back to town by now.”

“Oh of course, I wouldn’t want you to miss any excitement at the local tavern, or wherever it is you go.” She was getting upset.

“It is none of your business what I do in my free time,” Feredir shot back.

Terrwyn was ready to give up. Just when she thought she saw a different more caring side to this elf, he turned back into the goblin she had known him as. “You know, let’s just get out of here. It is getting late anyways. I’ll just tell Master Curuven that I did not find the berries. I’ll get them next time. Right now, I’m just tired and I want to get back to my barracks.

“Fine then,” he answered. Feredir could feel her defeat and he added another mental notch to his score. It was becoming hard work to argue with her. She did not back down easily. 

They walked along until they found a spot where the land sloped at a comfortable angle and climbed back up. They dusted themselves off, gathered their belongings and headed back to town in utter silence.

* * *

The next day, Feredir was not there to escort her to the Master Healer’s office. Instead, it was another guard. She wondered what might have happened to her charge. Maybe he was done serving his time as prison guard. Whatever the reason, it was nice to walk with someone different, someone who did not belittle her and did not mind striking up a conversation. She learned a little bit more about Ithilien and its rebuilding. This elf did not mind answering her questions and he expanded on them to the fullest. It was probably the most enjoyable morning she had spent here since arriving.

Terrwyn and her guard arrived at Master Curuven’s office. They entered to find a very cheerful Healer humming a delightful elvish tune. “You are in good spirits this morning, Master Curuven,” she said to him.

“I am indeed. It seems you won’t be needing to recollect those berries today, my dear.”

“What do you mean?” she asked curiously.

The Master Healer pointed to a full basket of berries sitting on a nearby table. “Feredir took it upon himself to go back out and gathered more than enough.

“Feredir did this?” she said surprised. “But I thought that he would be--.”

“I think he felt responsible for your mishap yesterday. He must have stayed out all night picking these. When I got here this morning, he was perched outside my doorstep, head leaning against the wall and waiting for me to arrive. I told him he could take the day for himself and I sent a different guard to meet you this morning.”

Terrwyn was flabbergasted. After all the ridiculous bantering yesterday, this was the last thing she expected. “Just when I think I cannot take one more moment around him, he does something like this.”

Master Curuven got her started on her chores for the day. Today she would get to help in the making of several types of medicine using the berries and other plants she collected. She was looking forward to learning more about these plants and their uses. As she was busy crushing up some of the berries, her fingers turning red from their juices, she could not help but let her mind wander to Feredir and that solitary moment they experienced after falling down the sharp hill. She had felt something as he called her by her name. It was the first time he had said it. He pronounced it slightly different with his elvish tongue. It came out as just a whisper, but it rang loudly in her mind. His eyes had captured her in that moment and she felt as if she could be lost there forever. And then, as fast as it had happened, it was gone. She was the one who yelled at him to get up. She was the one who broke the spell. Why did she do it? Despite his handsome face so close to hers and his delightful earthy scent, despite the feel of his body lying on top of hers and his full lips parted as he gazed at her, she had felt fear. But why? Almost all her life she dreamed of experiencing a moment like that. She did not expect it to be with someone that she loathed. Well, maybe that was too strong of a word, but Feredir was nothing like what she expected of the elves. He was rude, crude, and only cared about himself, but he was also kind when it counted. All of these thoughts and the heat from the stove in the little back room were giving her a headache, so she wiped Feredir from her mind, the sweat from her brow, and concentrated on the day’s chores ahead. But he never really left her mind completely.


	21. Tired and Fed Up

A loud obnoxious knock on the barracks door nearly made Terrwyn jump out of her skin. “Come in,” she yelled.

The door squeaked as it opened. “Let’s go, Lag. You have a full day’s work ahead of you,” Feredir replied. The sun had barely risen and already he seemed to be in a foul mood. She expected no less.

“I’ll be there in one moment,” she said from behind a privacy screen. Yesterday had been an exhausting day both physically and mentally as Master Curuven taught her many things about the different herbs. Her wrists hurt from all the berry crushing and she slept longer than she would have liked this morning. For first time she was not ready and waiting by the time Feredir showed to collect her. At least he was not making a big deal of it as he waited silently by the door.

Feredir watched from where he stood. She was not ready, unusual for her. It seemed work was finally catching up to her. Actually, she lasted longer than he thought she would. She was of strong will, for a human woman. She was not easily broken. He shamefully admitted to himself that he liked that. Even so, she was a prisoner and he would not let up on her.

Feredir looked at the privacy screen. Her white shirt and tan leggings hung over the top. He heard the sound of rustling clothes dragging across bare skin. Then a white nightgown landed next to her clothes. Water splashed in a basin and Feredir knew she was naked behind the screen. He thought about the feel of her body beneath him the other day and now wondered what it looked like unclothed. She may be annoying and a pest, but he was still a male with a voracious appetite for the female form, no matter whose form it was. His ears trained on the sounds behind the screen, a cloth dipping into water and then traveling along smooth soft skin before dipping in the basin again. The smell of rose water drifted in the air and made him envision her long red hair draped across her shoulders. He could pretend he did not notice until all the Orcs were erased from Middle-earth, but the truth was, he was aware of her beauty right away and every time he laid eyes upon her. Most of the time, he wiped the thoughts from his mind. She was young for a human. He did not know of her past besides the charges brought against her. Maybe she belonged to another, the man he had seen her with the day she arrived. Maybe she was a virgin. Feredir would never steal something so precious away from any female, just to satisfy his own body’s cravings. He was not cruel in that way. The women he chose to bed understood ahead of time that he was not tamable. They shared an understanding that there were no strings attached. He came and went as he pleased. If he sensed that they could not agree to this, he did not pursue them. Terrwyn seemed the type that would latch onto him should he ever make any advances on her. He felt that she was searching for something, something he was sure he could not give her. Besides, there was one big hindrance that could not be overlooked. She was an inmate and he was her charge.

Slowly, the white shirt and leggings slid down behind the screen. Feredir listened as the sound of rustling clothes brought him out of his reverie. He shook his head as if ridding himself of his recent thoughts. As long as she did not thank him for . . .

“I never got to thank you for collecting the berries,” she said in that sweet voice.

Feredir cringed. “I only did it so that I would not have to suffer another long day watching you stumble around in the woods.” There, that should keep her from thinking he did it out of the kindness of his heart. He had a reputation to uphold. Actually, he did it because he felt bad about the way he had treated her, always badgering her and trying to get a rise from her. He was not sure why she brought out his ornery side, but he enjoyed watching her get flustered. 

Terrwyn stepped out from around the privacy screen. “Somehow I knew you would say something like that. I shall spare you any embarrassment and not mention it again, but I could not let it go without at least acknowledging it.” She picked up her pack that Master Curuven had given her, with some new tools used for crushing herbs, and headed for the door. As she passed Feredir, he could not help but notice how refreshing she smelled.

“You smell different today,” he said bluntly.

She smiled. “Thank you. Actually, I do not know where it came from. Last night when I looked in my chest, it was stocked with oils and delicate soaps, much better than that awful stuff they gave me before.” She stopped and turned to Feredir, who was just closing the barracks door. “I don’t suppose you know anything about it, do you?” she said accusingly.

“I can honestly say I know nothing about it,” he answered. “Come, let’s be going, Lag.”

Terrwyn only sighed and walked off with Feredir behind her.

* * *

Two more weeks passed and not much had changed, especially Feredir. He kept his distance from Terrwyn, only doing his duty. She did not harass him with questions or comments. Everything went on, life as usual for a warden and his ward. Master Curuven stopped sending her out to look for plants. Winter had set in and most of them were in hibernation now. She spent her days sterilizing rags, bandages, bottles and instruments. The Healer taught her one remedy at a time, showing her which ingredients to use, how to mix them and what to store it in. So far, she could make a concoction for burns and minor scraps. She also knew how to properly bandage a wound or splint a broken arm. It was not much, but it was a start and Terrwyn was enjoying it. She seemed to be a natural for this kind of work. So many people had helped her up to this point in her life. Now she felt like she could finally give back to society, even if just a little.

Terrwyn was just finishing putting away freshly sterilized tools, when Master Curuven called for her. She came out of the back room and found Feredir at his usual place, looking as bored as always. The Healer stood beside his workbench with a list of some sort. He smiled warmly the way he always did when he had something new for Terrwyn to do.

“I need you to make your way to the apothecary shop in the center of town. Hand the owner this list and tell her it is from me. You may wait while she fills the order.” Master Curuven turned to Feredir. “Feredir, show Terrwyn around the town for a bit while you wait. I am sure she would enjoy the time away for a while.”

Feredir got up from his chair, put down the book he was reading and nodded to the Master Healer. Then he looked at Terrwyn and tilted his head, gesturing for them to be on their way.

They made their way to the circle where the beautiful fountain stood in the center. As requested by the Healer, Feredir took her to the appropriate shop. While Terrwyn spoke to the owner, handing her the list, Feredir looked around at the different bottles and jars with their unusual contents inside. He observed them curiously, until he came to a jar that looked back at him. He jumped back, slightly startled.

“Eye of crow,” called the owner and Feredir looked away from the appalling thing. The shop owner was an old woman dressed in a long black dress. The only thing not covered by the black lace material was her hands and head. Her long grey hair hug over her shoulders and her wrinkled face studied the elf in her store. “It is used to help improve one’s eyesight, but I doubt you need any such thing.”

Feredir gave her a nervous smile and moved on to a safer shelf that housed simple leaves. He glanced around for Terrwyn and found her looking at an old yellowed map that hung on the wall. With his eagle vision, he could see that it was an old map of Ithilien, before the orcs demolished it during the war years. She did not seem to be the least bit worried about the eccentric old woman who was now approaching Feredir. She looked at him from head to toe, noticing his long black hair and sturdy build, then smiled showing a large gap between her front teeth. “Ah, a Peredhil,” she commented and touched his arm. “Gondorian blood too, a healthy combination.” The old woman glanced behind her where Terrwyn stood before turning back to the handsome elf. She met his silver eyes with her gaze and held him there a moment. Feredir felt a nervous niggling at the back of his mind, as if the old woman knew his thoughts, but she was searching deeper to a place that not even he liked to visit very often. “You hide it well,” she said, then picked up a small corked bottle with some kind of white powder inside. She turned it here and there, then without lifting her head, she peered up at Feredir. “I doubt you’d be needing this either, except maybe with the lady over there,” she said turning her eyes to slits and looking to the side towards Terrwyn.

Feredir looked at the old woman curiously. “And just what is that?” he said in his usual arrogant tone.

“Ground oliphant tusk. It is an aphrodisiac of sorts and can help two souls who have not met yet. I can see you have not truly met the lady over there. You have a job to do and will not let your feelings interfere.”

“Feelings?” he said with a slightly nervous laugh. “There is no such thing between us. She is in Ithilien to carry out her punishment. I am merely her warden, nothing more.”

“Very well. Even I cannot unlatch the door that you keep heavily guarded in the back of your mind. Give it some time and maybe you will come around . . . if you learn to give your gift freely.”

Feredir creased his brow. “My gift? Of what do you speak? I know of no gift.”

The old woman cackled. “Of course not.” Then, as if a curtain lifted, Feredir felt released of her hold. The store, which seemed dark when they first entered, seemed brighter now and the old woman looked normal. He could not explain it, but it was as if something drew him into some sort of spell and time stopped. He turned to Terrwyn but she seemed unaffected by any of it.

The old woman was now behind her long counter at the back of her store. Odd, he did not remember seeing her move over there. It was a strange place indeed and the young ellon felt out of sorts here. He turned away from the curious woman’s stare.

Now she made her way over to where Terrwyn stood admiring the map. Looking once more at the elf and finding him distracted by a jar of dehydrated toads, she spoke to the Rohirrim girl. “That is a map of Ithilien, the old city before it was destroyed.”

Terrwyn smiled politely. “Oh, did you live here then?”

“Aye my lady, I was born here. It was a dark day when the evil came. My family fled from the city just in time. Never thought I’d see it shine once more as it did back then. It’s the elves you know. They brought with them a magic that may never be seen again. I believe it is the last of their magic and they chose to use it here. These lands, though beautiful, are much different from the original layout.” Here the old woman pointed to a spot on the map with her crooked finger. “That there used to be a secret way out of the city.” She laughed, more of a cackle really. “Oh, the boy’s I took there just to show them this secret passage so I could get them alone.”

Terrwyn smiled as her cheeks blushed red. “Oh my, did you ever get caught?”

“Fortunately no, my dear. In fact, it was because of this secret way that my family escaped the night the orcs raided the city. Otherwise, we may not have survived, or had been turned into slaves.” Her voice turned cold as it trailed off.

Suddenly, Terrwyn thought of her brother Hathmund at the old woman’s mention of slaves. As her thoughts took her and she seemed lost in them, the medicine woman watched Terrwyn from the corner of her eye. After a moment of silence and observation, she spoke again. “I wonder if that old passageway still exists.”

Her voice made Terrwyn’s mind come back to the moment at hand. “I am sure it was destroyed along with most other things once the evil armies took over.”

“Perhaps,” the old woman said in a slow drawn out hiss. The word seemed to linger on the air and in Terrwyn’s ears.

“Terrwyn,” Feredir called from across the room. She turned to see him watching her and the spell was broken. “We must be going soon.”

She glanced once more at the old tattered map to an area deep within the gardens that the old woman pointed out. Then she turned to join Feredir where he stood by the front door.

“It will take a while to gather all of these ingredients. There’s no use waiting around here. Come back in an hour and it will be ready,” the old woman called from behind the counter once more.

Terrwyn smiled politely and nodded, but Feredir faced the door, ready to leave the shop. He looked a little befuddled, something she had never seen from him before. “Everything alright, Feredir?”

The sound of his name coming from her lips brought him back from his baffled thoughts. Had she ever called him by name before? He could not recall, but it warmed a layer of his tough skin. He shook it off quickly and regained his composure. “Come then, Lag. Let’s wait outside.” He turned once more to the old woman. She was smiling her toothy grin as if she knew more than she led on.

They exited the store and Feredir took Terrwyn to the fountain at the center of the circle. There was still water flowing, dripping into the pool below. “Won’t the water freeze?” she asked.

“Not this water. It is fed in from a hot spring. The dwarves built it with this in mind. The water is constantly warm and will not freeze, allowing the fountain to run no matter what the season. I must admit, I do admire the ingenuity of the dwarves,” he answered, while swishing his hand through the water.

Terrwyn observed the fountain again with its beautiful elves standing in a circle. “You know what I admire most about elvish design? It is always very flowing in nature. And the fact that there are no corners, everything is continuous and unending. No two pieces of architecture are the same.”

Feredir smiled. “It exemplifies our immortal lives, uninterrupted . . . a world without end.” As he spoke, Terrwyn could not help but notice a slight disappointment in his tone and she wondered about his half-elven background.

“Is it true you must make a choice one day, to live on with your kin or to die a mortal man?” she asked.

“As far as I am concerned, I am an elf and I would choose no other life,” he said harshly. It was obvious this was a subject he was not willing to discuss any further.

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to pry,” she said looking into the crystal clear water.

Feredir glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “What about you then? What was your life like . . . before Ithilien?”

Terrwyn shook her head. “I have almost always been on my own, with the exception of a few kind people along the way. It has been tough from time to time, but I always manage.”

“You seemed to be managing just fine with that older gentleman I saw you with the day you arrived,” he said trying to find out more about her past.

Terrwyn thought for a moment. “Oh, Rosloch . . . why yes, we were . . . together for a while in Gondor.”

“And now?”

“Now I am here and that’s all you need to know,” she said on the defensive. “And besides . . .” She went on, but Feredir was not paying attention. He looked across the way and saw some troops from his border guard battalion.

“Wait here, Lag. Do not move from this spot. I will return,” he interrupted and dashed off across the paved circle.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“It doesn’t concern you. Just stay right here by this fountain and do not move a muscle. And if someone tries to talk to you, politely tell them to leave you alone. Just act natural. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a minute. I can trust you alone for that long can’t I?”

A thought suddenly came to Terrwyn’s mind, but she smiled sweetly to Feredir. “I will be a good little prisoner and wait right here. Don’t want to be on the wrong end of one of your arrows,” she added. Feredir looked at her curiously for a moment, wondering why she was behaving strangely, then he walked off to meet with this fellow guardsmen.

“How rude,” Terrwyn said to herself, as she watched him walk swiftly towards a group of elvish soldiers, all dressed in black with silver chest plates and shoulder pads. They carried their helm in their hands and had quivers strapped to their backs. Archers, she thought to herself. These must be his men. She observed the way he smiled warmly at them and grasped arms or shoulders with some, probably his close companions. They must have seen much in the way of war or attacks. She could tell that they were a very close-knit group.

She thought about his last words to her just then, always calling her by this degrading name. She recalled the time he called out her name the day she was picking berries. It sounded so lovely coming from his full lips. There was no denying that he was very handsome with his long black hair and well-built body. And his eyes . . . she could spend a lifetime lost in their silver stare. How easy it would be to fall for an elf like him, until he opened his mouth. Feredir was always hard on her, always calling her ‘Lag’ or putting her down. She understood their reason for having to see each other. He was assigned to her and she could not get away from him. Had it been any other situation, she could just leave and never have to listen to him again, but there was no avoiding it. Still, could he not treat her with the slightest bit of respect? Yes, the charges held against her were very serious and so she was a prisoner, but did he always have to be such an Orc? Was it too much to ask that Feredir start calling her by her name?

And what of the help from the elves? She had not heard a thing from Captain Glandur since he told her they would fight for her freedom. So far, she had followed their rules, worked her tired fingers to the bone, and was still able to learn a thing or two about the art of healing. Winter had set in and it would not be long before spring arrived. As soon as the weather was more cooperative, she would go to Rohan to face her real punishment. It seemed that nothing was taking place in Ithilien. The elves were very laid back and seemed unconcerned.

She remembered something Alric told her once long ago. He said that if you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself. She started thinking that he was right about that. The elves had been very fair and polite since she arrived, but they had not been much help, at least they had not informed her of any information they might have gathered.

As Terrwyn sat on a bench by the fountain, listening to the dripping water and contemplating her situation, two Ithilien women slowly passed behind her. Something they said made her listen intently.

“I heard they caught a group of Easterlings in the northern parts. They tried to cut across the forests and were stopped,” said a woman with brown hair.

“It was not Easterlings. No, that’s not why it was so unusual. It was them there Southrons. Not since the war have there been any sightings of them in Gondor. They tend to stay out of this area. The fact that they are here now tells me that their number are growing. I think there will be more attacks on our borders,” said the other woman, slightly older than the first with streaks of grey mixed in with black and creases around her eyes and mouth. 

“You know how they increase their numbers don’t you?” said the first woman.

The second woman nodded slowly. “Aye, tis a dirty business they do, stealing young ones right out from under their parents noses in the middle of the night. They brainwash them and turn them into slaves or recruit the older ones into their armies.” Her voice was low and the tone sent a shiver down Terrwyn’s spine. She knew all about it. This was how she lost her brother.

The women walked on, but Terrwyn's thoughts turned to Hathmund. She looked around at her surroundings. Suddenly anger grew up from the pit of her stomach until it surrounded her heart. Here she was, incarcerated and well taken care of with no idea if her brother was still alive. The elvish captain had not even mentioned her brother after she told him her story. They might want to help her, but they would not help find her brother. That was none of their concern. Alric was right. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. 

She glanced over her shoulder to Feredir. There he was laughing it up with the other elves. She did not care how gorgeous he was, he was a pain, unfair towards her and always demeaning her. If she heard him call her that name one more time, she was going to hit him. He had pushed her to her limits, always threatening to stick her with an arrow. Terrwyn looked around again; the crowds were growing as the day went on. She was beginning to lose sight of Feredir as more people walked by. She thought of the hidden passageway that the old woman told her about. Could she do it? Could she build up the courage to run away? She may not be an elf or have their stealth, but she had all the smarts of the Rohirrim. No one would look twice towards her, still hidden by her winter cloak.

Laughter rose above the crowd. She’d know that voice anywhere. Feredir was probably laughing at her expense, telling his friends how easy it is to make her angry. “Well, not anymore,” she said to herself. “Let him see if he can shoot something that is not there.”

Terrwyn took one more look in the elf’s direction. She laughed to herself. He actually thought she would do as he said and stay put by the fountain. Well, forget him and forget his stupid name-calling. She had enough of it, enough of everything. It was time to start worrying about herself again. Her original plans did not work out. Now she would take things into her own hands. With that, Terrwyn slipped away into the crowd, making her way to the gardens.

* * *

Feredir was laughing about something his men told him that happened out on the borders involving another one of their comrades. He looked up and over to the fountain, noticing how crowded the circle was becoming at this late hour of the morning. He stretched his neck as he tried to see through the people. He would catch a glimpse of the bench where he left Terrwyn and realized he had not checked on her in a while. Of course, she would still be there, he thought to himself. Surrounded by guards, surely she wouldn’t try anything . . . stupid.

“What are you looking for, Feredir?” asked one of his friends.

“Oh nothing, just thought I saw someone,” he answered. It seemed he was slightly uneasy, as he looked left and right, pushing people out of the way. He started walking in the direction of the fountain without saying a word to his friends.

“Feredir, where are you going?” one of them asked.

“I . . . I need to check on something. I’ll be right back,” he yelled back, still heading for the fountain. By the time he reached it, the bench was empty and there was no sign of Terrwyn. He leapt up onto the bench and then onto the edge of the fountain, looking all around the area. She would not be easy to miss with that long red hair. Unfortunately, she was nowhere in sight.

“Terrwyn!” he called out, but no one stopped to look at him. He called for her again, but still nothing. Now Feredir was in a full panic. He had lost her. He never thought she would actually run away. He was watching her, wasn’t he? Well, maybe he was not always looking at her, and maybe he got a little involved with hearing stories from his friends about the border. He missed his border patrol and wanted nothing more than to get back there.

He hesitated and thought about his options. What he should have done was to go straight to the captain and report his predicament. Those were the rules. He should follow the rules since that was why he was here in the first place. However, the other half of his conscience, the unreasonable side was telling him to go off on his own and find her, drag her back by that long red hair and never let her forget this. No one had ever escaped from Feredir, not on his watch, and no one, especially this . . . this Rohirric woman was going to break that record.

“Now, where did you go, Lag?” he said to himself as he looked over the crowded area. She would not have ducked into a store. That was too obvious. She could have followed the crowd to the front gate, hitched a ride on a delivery cart and secretly pass through, but that was risky, even for her. No, she’s not gotten far, but which way? Then a thought came to him. He remembered looking at her in the apothecary shop. She was looking at something, the old yellowed map. Yes, that’s it, an old map of Ithilien. He remembered seeing another such map hanging in the window of some store here on the circle. Feredir took off in the direction of that shop.

When he got there, the map was still hanging in the window as a tribute to the old city. Quickly, his eyes scanned over it, starting at the ancient building in the center of the city. That place had long since been destroyed, but was the circle in which he stood now. The only place that was remotely the same was the gardens. Quickly, he looked them over and noticed a doorway marked along one of the outer areas. It looked like it led to a tunnel or perhaps an old sewer. Something told him this was where she went. If this old passageway was still there, she could slip out of the city unnoticed and come out on the eastern side of the forest, which ran along the river. He had to find her, and quick or it would be his hide on the line. “I’ve got you now, Lag,” he said to himself and dashed off towards the gardens at the hurried run.


	22. Deep in Ithilien

Chapter 22 - Deep in Ithilien

 

Feredir ran on through the city streets until he came to the area of the gardens. Wooden walkways led throughout, sometimes ending at private gazebos or an area of trees. Most of the land was open with grassy grounds and patches of wildflowers, rosebushes or other popular species of flora that flourished in the spring and summer. Every so often, a vine-covered archway led to a different section of the garden. Everything was very well kept, even in winter. Further and deeper into this area it went wild, where tall oaks and maples grew. These trees grew taller than those in the manicured gardens for they had not been damaged or destroyed by the orcs. Old ruins, broken stone columns and paved roads that led nowhere adorned this forest. Moss covered half walls and creeping vines hid most of what remained of the old city. This was an easy place to get lost in, an easy place to hide.

Feredir ran to an old set of steps that went up to what used to be a main entrance of a building. The building was gone, but the stone floor remained, though covered by dead leaves, fallen branches and vines. All was completely silent except for some forest creatures, chipmunks speaking from across the way, and birds complaining about the intruder in their normally quiet forest home. The elf stood still, listening for the faintest rustle of a leaf or snap of a twig, but he heard nothing. Then there was a commotion across the way near a moss-covered wall. Squirrels chattered in annoyance. Something disturbed them or came too close to their nest. He scanned the place with his sharp vision and sniffed the air. The slightest hint of roses caught his attention and he smiled slightly. He was on her trail and now she would not get far.

Running silently as only an elf can, Feredir made his way to the place he had just surveyed. The squirrels still protested and by now were quite agitated. Feredir’s elvish side came into play as he spoke his smooth words and calmed them. They fell silent, watched the elf a moment and then went back into the warmth of their home. He smiled to himself. Long had it been since he communicated with the forest creatures. He used to do this all the time as an elfling growing up in Mirkwood. Since the wars and since moving to the city, he lacked in his abilities to feel nature around him. It felt good to get back in touch with his native elvish charms and the old forest seemed glad to have him amongst them also. He would have liked to spend some time wandering around the old ruins, but for the fact that he had a prisoner to capture.

Looking at the moss-covered wall, he found what he was looking for. A place there did not seem right. There was a slight separation in the moss as if it had been disturbed. He pushed on it and a section of wall moved with his hand. He pushed again and the wall started revolving around. To his surprise, Feredir found the secret passage. ‘This must be where she went,’ he thought and stepped through the gaping hole. It led to a short tunnel, lit by the sunlight coming in through the exit. Feredir checked the tunnel for signs of Terrwyn. He found a piece of her grey cloak where it had caught on the rough walls. This was definitely her. She was not far now.

He stepped out of the tunnel and into a very dense section of forest. His eyes scanned for any movement among the close growing trees. Something caught his attention, over to his right, a flash of red. Feredir smiled to himself. “The chase is on little fox,” he whispered.

Using the trees as cover, Feredir dashed this way and that. He could hear the faintest sound of hurried footsteps and wondered how a human’s foot could make such little noise. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought he was chasing another elf. He cautiously followed her until he found her cloak tangled in the thorns of a bush. She could not free herself and discarded it. “Just how far do you think you will get without that?” he said to himself. He knew that she was exposed to the elements and today was particularly cold, especially amongst the shadows of the trees. It was time to put this to an end and get her back to the city, but just what he was going to tell the Captain, he did not know. He couldn’t really blame Terrwyn for running. He was surprised she had not tried to escape earlier, but then she seemed content with her arrangements. That did not matter now. Not only did she run, but she ran from him. When he finally caught up to her, he wanted to teach her a lesson and make sure she would not try this again. Feredir unhooked his bow from his back, which he always carried with him when he was on duty. “I never thought I would have to use this on you, Lag,” he said as he retrieved an arrow from his quiver.

Feredir made his way around, listening as he went. He had come around and gotten in front of her, so he climbed a tree and waited for her to come along. Suddenly, there she was. She was a mess, hair tangled with leaves, tears in the sleeves of her shirt and her leggings. He could see mud stains on her knees where she must have fallen a time or two. She was a pitiful sight, even to his keen eyes. Terrwyn looked so small and alone from where he sat in the tall tree. What started out to be a thrill at having to chase down a prisoner now turned to sympathy. He thought of her story and all she had been through and felt a light tugging at his heart. He hated to admit it, but Terrwyn really did not fit the description of a cold-blooded killer. Somehow, he felt she had been wronged. Still, she broke the rules here in Ithilien and he had a job to do. Feredir pushed his personal feelings aside so he could do it.

She was just below the tree in which Feredir sat patiently waiting. “So you thought you could slip out through the secret tunnel did you?” he called from the tree.

Terrwyn jumped and looked up to find Feredir standing on a high branch with a notched arrow aimed straight at her. She froze in her footsteps, remembering his threat of how he never missed his mark. She glared up at him. “You got too confident and did not think I would try.”

“That didn’t mean you should have tried,” he shot back. “Look at yourself. You have no protection from the elements, no cape nor weapon. You could not have gotten far. Give up Terrwyn, and we will go back quietly. I’ll speak on your behalf and tell the captain you got lost in the gardens or something.”

“What do you care? You are always belittling me, calling me Lag. Do you know how degrading that is? Do you know how it feels to be constantly reminded of why you are in a certain position? Your Captain said he would help me, yet I have heard no news for a month. I feel as if I have been put under some spell and I have forgotten the real reason I must leave. The longer I stay the harder it gets to remember him.” By now, tears were running down Terrwyn’s face.

“Remember who?” Feredir asked.

“My brother was taken many years ago by the Haradrim. I do not know what became of him, but something deep down tells me he is still alive. My parents are dead because of the Southrons. If I can find my brother and bring him back to me, I will have won. Otherwise I am really alone in this world.”

Feredir could feel her despair. “I am sorry. I did not know you had a brother, but you must know that the odds of him still being alive--.”

“I will never rest until I know for sure. He would never stop looking for me. I must honor that and do the same.”

“That is not possible now,” Feredir said trying to make her understand. “You have been charged. You must follow out your sentence until your countrymen arrive.”

“You could turn away, Feredir. You could let me escape,” she pleaded.

Feredir shook his head. “I’m afraid I cannot do that. Now come on. Let’s get back before it’s too late.”

“No!” she shouted. Terrwyn stared at the elf, his eyes sparkling down on her from the tree in which he remained. She finally tore herself away from his gaze and started walking away.

“Don’t do this Terrwyn,” he commanded, but she kept walking. He rolled his eyes and pulled back on his bowstring. “Terrwyn!” he shouted once more but it did not stop her.

She was shaking as she had her back turned to him. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she continued walking deeper into the forest. Suddenly, she heard the snap of a bowstring and a thwack. She stopped and looked down to where an arrow embedded itself in the ground right where her next step was to be. She did not turn towards him.

“I will not miss next time,” Feredir said in a low serious tone. He waited to see her reaction, hoping she would come back. Suddenly she took off at a run. Feredir reached behind him to his quiver, took another arrow and notched it, aiming it right at her. He had an open shot. His fingers gripped the bowstring and pulled back. Something steadied his hand and he found he could not release his arrow. He tried to shake the feeling and concentrate again, but still nothing. “Oh for pity’s sake,” he grumbled. Now he was angry, not only with Terrwyn for running, but also with himself for suddenly gaining a conscience. He strapped the bow to his back and leapt down from the tree, chasing after her. His blood was boiling. How dare she do this. How dare she run from him and make him want to give her mercy. This was not like him. He had never felt like this and he hated it.

Terrwyn ran as fast as her legs would carry her. Obstacles littered this part of the forest with broken branches and fallen trees. It did not seem to slow her down though and this surprised her. She navigated the forest floor with ease, jumping and dodging. As long as she kept concentrating on what was in front of her, she was able to flee at a great pace. The will to escape was strong.

Now the undergrowth was beginning to thicken. As she passed a hawthorn bush, its needle sharp points tore at her clothes. One cut across her cheek and she yelled as the scratch began to burn and bleed. This angered her. If Feredir had just let her escape, if he had just turned his back, but he shot an arrow at her. Terrwyn’s mind was seething to think he would actually injure her, or worse. He was nothing but a bully, she thought. Then again, he could have shot her, but he didn’t. She smiled to herself thinking of how angry it must have made him to feel this way when suddenly something grasped her ankle and she fell face first onto the leaf littered forest floor. Feredir had finally caught up to her, but how could that be? She had never heard a single footstep coming up behind her.

Struggling to get free of him, Terrwyn rolled onto her back. The elf had a hold of one leg and was about to pull her towards him. She looked to her left and saw a piece of branch just big enough for her to handle, picked it up and brought it down hard on his wrist. He cried out and loosened his grip, but did not let go. Terrwyn swung again and his hand caught the wooden weapon, pulling it from her hands and tossing it far away.

“What are you doing, Terrwyn?” he said breathlessly. “This is madness. Stop before you get hurt.”

She did not listen to a word he said, but started kicking her feet trying to get free of him. Feredir did the only thing he could, being he was in no position to constrain her as he lay on the ground. He released her and then jumped to his feet. The elf towered over her as she crawled on the ground, trying to get away. As she got up, she felt strong hands on her arms, gripping her, hurting her. “Let me go you brut,” she yelled and somehow managed to turn and face her captor. An unforgiving hand freed itself and the elf received a hard slap across the face. His breathing became rapid and his blood raced as the sting on his fair skin grew sharper. Then she stomped down hard on his booted foot, more pain and anger adding to an already infuriated elf. Just as she started to lift her knee and finish him off in a place that would definitely cripple him, he turned her around, his strong arms enveloping her like a vice grip.

Terrwyn wriggled wildly trying to get away, but Feredir had too strong of a hold on her. He pulled her against his body. Even beneath his guard’s uniform, she could feel his flexing muscles, all tendons and brawn. Just to look at him, one never would know of the strength this elf possessed. His breath was on her neck as he whispered to her. “Stop this, Terrwyn. Stop this now.”

How was it she was able to feel anything but fear at that moment, she did not know. The sound of his voice and the feel of his warm breath on her skin sent a shiver down her spine, tingeing her body with warmth as it went. What were these feelings she was having? Never before had she felt anything so strong. “Please release me,” she pleaded once more, her voice almost cracking.

“I . . . I can’t do that,” he answered. Terrwyn almost thought his reply had a different meaning than the one she knew he meant. Either he couldn’t or he didn’t want to.

Suddenly, her mind and the moment at hand came back into the reality of her surroundings. The young Rohirric was done talking and pleading. Her foot kicked back and landed square on his shin, sending a jolt of unexpected pain through his body. Feredir released her and she was off and running again. This time she did not get far as a sudden heavy weight slammed into her from behind, knocking her to the ground. Feredir was now lying on her and flipped her over onto her back so he could face her. Both of them were breathing rapidly, anger bubbling and making the surrounding air very tense. His silver eyes seemed to be on fire, an unnatural glow emanating from them. The elf captured Terrwyn in more ways than just physically. Their eyes locked onto each other. His hand brushed her tangled red hair from her face. Her body lying beneath his set him alight and for the first time he was really seeing her, seeing her beauty, her fiery spirit. Nothing could explain why he did what he did next, except that it was complete lack of will power and force of need. His eyes drilled deep into hers, green as the wild spring grasses of the plains of Rohan.

“Terrwyn,” he said in a long slow whisper. His lips parted and came down carefully upon hers. He half expected her to resist him, but she did not. Instead, she accepted his kiss, moving along with him and letting him lead. Something primal eased its way up his body and it responded rapidly. He deepened the kiss.

Terrwyn could not resist him. For some reason, she felt this was supposed to happen, as if it was something she had been searching for since she could remember. Just as easily as Feredir could enrage her, she found out that he could calm her too. And when his lips pressed against hers, all time seemed to stop. The way he said her name continued to reverberate through her mind. Even with her eyes closed, she could still see him clearly.

All of his weight lay upon her, but it was not uncomfortable. In fact, it was the complete opposite. He was like her protective cover. She felt safe lying beneath him. Something about him said he would not take this any further than she would allow, yet she could not stop herself. She could feel his desire as it swelled against her thigh. Had he always wanted this . . . had she? 

Unable to resist, Terrwyn brought her hands up and buried them in his thick black mane, so soft and sleek. She cradled his head, bringing him down harder against her lips and deepening the kiss as he did. Lips parted and tongues searched for the sweetness of each other’s mouth. Sparks spread rapidly beneath their skin and seemed to travel through each other. Terrwyn tingled from head to toe as Feredir’s tongue swirled and played with her own. No longer timid, they now hungered for something more than just fervid kisses. Feredir readjusted himself, bringing his knee up and nudging her legs apart. He settled himself, thinking of how comfortable he was, how well they fit together. He grew harder with excitement, wishing his uniform no longer confined him. Unable to control his body’s reactions, he began writhing against her, as if making love to her. Terrwyn moaned as his arousal pressed against her clothed center. All that separated them was the material of their leggings. His body was so close. His movements made her moisten and ache. She wanted him. She needed him. This elf, which made her red with anger to the point where she wanted to scream, now made her mad with desire. His strength as he held her now was a different kind than only a few moments ago. He wanted to tend to her needs and satisfy his own if it would please her. He was not forceful, but he would not let go so easily.

Feredir released her from the kiss and came to look down upon her. The green of her eyes sparkled, as he had never seen before. There was no other way to explain it but to say that she seemed anything but human in that one moment. Terrwyn was unlike any woman he had ever known, made him feel unlike anything he’d felt in all his years. She was raw beauty, yet she had not fully come into her own. There was so much to discover about this woman of Rohan. She kept her true spirit hidden, not only from him, but also from herself. If he could make love to her, he knew he would find and touch that spirit and set her free.

By the gods, he wanted her, wanted to bury himself deep within her and never come back from that rapturous place. He wanted more from her than just a warm body and satisfaction for the night. To live forever within her eyes, her soul surrounding him, that was what he wanted. Set her free, he thought to himself, but she was not free was she? She was a prisoner and he was her charge. What was happening? Why was he behaving like this and why was she not pushing him away?

Terrwyn traced his lips with her finger, so full, so soft. What would it be like to have them upon her skin? She cupped the side of his face, so youthful she thought. Yet she knew he had seen much, felt much, maybe even loved before. Still, this sudden attraction seemed new to him as well as to her. She had only been with one man and it was wonderful, but this was completely different. It was intense. It was primal. It could very well be the most loving too.

His eyes shone bright like the stars, all silver and piercing right through her. There were so many things she wanted to say, yet only one word could she speak. “Feredir,” she moaned as he continued his ministrations, hips circling and his well-endowed desire caressing her through her leggings. Terrwyn’s body was reacting quickly, her hips curving up, giving him more of her body to press against. By now, she forgot about all of his teasing, his harassing and name-calling. She was under his spell and never wanted it to release her. This . . . this was what she waited for her whole life. This elf was the one she had so often dreamed of finding. This elf was . . . was . . .

“We have to stop,” he whispered. “We must stop before it goes any further.”

“I know, but I do not want to,” she said regretfully.

“Neither do I,” he admitted. “But we must. We cannot do this. I am your charge.”

Terrwyn sighed deeply as he rolled off her body. Together, they got up from the leafy floor and came to stare into each other’s eyes. Desire and raw need still hung on the air like a thick fog. Just a single word spoken correctly would have them naked and on the ground once more, finally releasing all their pent up energy.

Her mind had not yet settled from the moment they just shared, but she knew she felt compassion coming from within him. Maybe now he would change his mind. “Will you let me go?” Terrwyn asked one last time. This was the only thing she desired as much as Feredir at the moment.

These were not the words he wished to hear. After all that just happened, she would still ask this of him. Would she still want to run away? Would she want to leave him? The spell was instantly broken as Feredir’s face turned hard and cold once again. “You know I cannot, no matter what just happened here.” Anger rose, overpowering desire. “Oh, I see what you were doing. This was your plan all along,” he whispered. “To get me away from civilization, seduce me and beg for me to release you?”

“No, no Feredir. It was not like that at all,” she said trying to convince him that his thoughts were misleading him.

His lips still burned where her fingers had touched them. His body was still on fire from covering hers and feeling her response. Suddenly he felt as if he had been the one who was seduced, something that had not happened to him before. His Gondorian blood raced faster than his elvish blood, making his thoughts become unclear. “You thought a little roll around in the forest would turn my elvish heart to mush and that I would just let you go,” he said angrily.

“It’s not like that Feredir. I never foresaw any of this,” she pleaded.

“Liar,” he hissed. “You thought you could use your beauty, your strength, your . . . your--.”

“I would not finish that sentence if I were you,” Terrwyn shot back. “I would never behave in such a way. Besides, you are the seducer. Tell me Feredir, how many women have you bedded? How many hearts have you broken just so you could get your cock wet? You say you are half elf, but the way I see it, only a fraction of the Eldar lives within your soul. You are more man than anything,” she spit, leaning heavily on the word ‘man’. “You are no better than those heathens in Rohan that would see me hung.”

Feredir grabbed her arm rather roughly, making her wince. “I am taking you back to the city. Pray that my Captain releases me from being your charge, otherwise you will wish that my arrow did not miss.” With that, they headed back to the city, full of rage and confusion.


	23. Simple Lives of Elves

 

They walked in complete silence back through the woods, Terrwyn leading and Feredir following closely behind. He held his bow in his hand, just in case she decided to run again. He would not hesitate to cripple her if she decided to do so. He could pretend all he wanted, but he could not deny what he had felt as he held her. Something stirred deep within him, deeper than he would admit. Now he felt it whenever he looked at her, whenever he heard her voice. That kiss would always be implanted in his mind. Curiosity was a reality and he would always want to know more about her, mentally and physically. Feredir decided he had to rid himself of such thoughts just as soon as he turned her in for escaping. Then he would visit his favorite haunt and seek out Feona. She was always good at making him forget his troubles. She could make him forget his own name. Yes, that was what he would do just as soon as he got rid of this troublemaker. Let this red nuisance sit alone in her barracks and contemplate her actions.

As soon as they got back to the city, Feredir led her straight to the Captains headquarters. Terrwyn would not look at him. He didn’t expect her to. They exchanged some very harsh words. The young elf did not know what to believe. He had never been in this situation before, had never been unable to stop someone without use of his weapon or felt the fire that she caused when their lips touched. They walked into the front waiting area of the headquarters. A guard stood outside of Glandur’s office. Feredir, still holding onto Terrwyn’s upper arm, pushed her rather roughly onto a chair. Then he came around in front of her and squatted down so he was eye level with her.

“I would not suggest any quick moves. I may have missed, but the guard here will not,” he whispered.

Terrwyn sat in complete silence, not looking at either elf in the room. She turned her head from Feredir to face the wall next to her chair. Damn him, she thought to herself. He was such an arrogant son of a bitch at times. How could she ever have felt anything for him? Sure, he was a good kisser. In fact, no one had ever kissed her like that. She got just a taste of what it would be like to make love to him, when his body writhed upon hers. That part was all elf, very sexy and seductive. Damn him thrice. “Well,” she thought. “I will take my punishment. I will not let him get the best of me, and I will never let him touch me again or there will be two murder charges hanging over my head.”

Feredir spoke to the guard silently and entered the Captains office. As the door slowly opened, he looked back once more to Terrwyn. “So she thought she could use me to aid her in an escape,” he thought to himself. “Humph, she picked the wrong elf. Look at her sitting there. She is absolutely seething. Thought her little plan would work did she?” But it almost did and he could not forget, especially now as he looked at her. She was beautiful; there was no denying that. Her body fit against his so perfectly, and when she moaned, it set him on fire. That had all been part of her plan . . . hadn’t it?

The elf warden stepped into the Captain’s office and approached the desk. He stood quietly at attention until he was addressed.

“So Feredir, what seems to be the problem?” Captain Glandur asked sternly, looking up from his paperwork. “And do start from the beginning.”

“Captain, I transported the girl to the Master Healer’s office this morning as is my duty. Master Curuven set her on an errand to place an order at the apothecary.” As he spoke of their day and her duty, he remembered how enjoyable it was talking to her. He had seen her smile and her eyes light up. Then he remembered how distraught she was as she spoke of her lost brother. Could he really blame her for trying to escape? Had he been in a similar situation, wouldn’t he try to do the same thing? When he was sitting in that tree, looking down upon her, did she not look helpless and scared? Did he not want to comfort her, help her? Suddenly he could not do it. He could not turn her in. Had he been in her position, falsely accused of murder and unable to find a missing loved one, he would have tried to run away too. She was acting out of instinct.

“And when we were told we would have to wait for the herbs . . .,” He paused and gave it one last thought. “I took it upon myself to show her the ancient area of the gardens. We were . . . separated and she became lost.”

“Lost?” Glandur asked with a curious glare, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Yes Captain,” Feredir replied. “Oh, but I found her, not much worse for wear. She got tangled in some hawthorn and may have a few scratches, but other than that she is fine.”

The tall blonde Captain stood up from his chair, went to where Feredir stood and circled him. Feredir remained standing at attention and feeling rather uneasy.

“It’s funny that you should claim that she became lost. I have been informed that you were seen running through the center of town towards the ancient areas. How do you explain that, Warden?” Glandur put emphasis on the title, reminding him that he was not a border guard and must answer directly to the Captain about such matters as a warden.

Feredir thought for a moment. Who could have told the Captain about this? It had to have been one of his border mates and he had a good idea who it was. One such ellon had always been rather jealous of him ever since he joined the guard here in Ithilien. He was amongst those earlier that day. He took a deep breath and decided to end the charade before it got out of hand. If he learned anything, it was that one did not cross paths with Captain Glandur. He was fair in his judgment, but he could not tolerate lies or, unfortunately, border guards who disobeyed their sergeants.

“I apologize, Captain. The girl, Terrwyn, did try to escape. I know I should have reported her first off, but she had not gotten very far. I knew I could find her and bring her back. I was hoping to avoid having to report her in the first place, but . . .” Feredir paused remembering just why it took him so long to bring her back in the first place. “Well, she is back now.” Feredir looked to the floor. He knew he would regret this. Damn her red head and damn her beauty. “Captain, had you been there, you would have done the same thing. She was running away because she feels no one is helping her. She mentioned her lost brother, how she just wanted to find him and bring him back. Personally, I think it is a lost cause. It has been years since his kidnapping. The boy probably did not survive a month in the hands of the Haradrim. I have seen them, fought them with my bare hands. They are cruel men and care for no life but their own.”

Glandur’s face softened as Feredir spoke. It was the first time he had actually heard or felt compassion coming from this young elf. Recently, he had questioned his decision to put Feredir in charge of Terrwyn. He thought being with a female would tame him somewhat. Actually, Feredir seemed more distant and rebellious. He was hard on the girl and Glandur regretted that. Terrwyn did not deserve such animosity. Now though, Feredir seemed to soften a bit, especially at the mention of Terrwyn’s concern for her brother. He could certainly understand why. Feredir had his own troubles with his sibling, something the Captain had known about since Feredir first came to Ithilien from Mirkwood.

“You are correct about the Southrons and I must agree with you about the outcome of her brother’s life. Even if he is still alive, he will not be the man he once was. He would have been tortured and retrained to think like one of them. However, that is not the issue here.” Glandur’s face hardened back to its original form and Feredir knew this was not the end of his redress by the Captain.

Glandur went back to his desk and stood firmly in front of his chair. “You still do not follow the rules Feredir.” His voice was low and unmistakably harsh. “You cannot continue to behave in such a manner.”

“But the girl was getting away, and I knew that if I --.”

“You cannot act on your own,” Glandur said in a raised voice. “There are rules that must be followed and when those rules are broken, there must be consequences.”

“Captain, I understand that, but --.”

“If you understood that you would still be at the border,” Glandur was almost shouting now, something he did not do very often. Normally, he was very calm and handled himself in a composed manner, but Feredir was pushing him to his limits. “I don’t need to tell you that you are one of my best guards. You have the skills, Feredir, of that there is no doubt, but you are not above our laws. Your talents are being wasted here as a warden.” Glandur calmed himself and sat in his chair. He took a deep breath and continued. “I need you to straighten your attitude up, Feredir. I need you to start listening to commands and heeding them. I need you at the borders.”

Feredir smiled smugly. “I am ready to go back, Captain.”

“You misunderstood me. You are not ready yet,” Glandur said in a low tone. “Until you can follow orders and stop thinking you are above others, I must request that you stay assigned to your ward.”

“But Captain, please --,” Feredir started to argue, but Glandur held up his hand.

“There is nothing you can say to change my mind. Feredir, you have a talent that not many possess. I have seen you fight. Whether with your bow or in hand-to-hand combat, you are always at the top of your game. I see the potential in you to go far in this elvish army. You are young yet and your mindset is not where it should be, but you are not so young that you cannot learn. It is time to own up to your actions. Until you can do that, I am afraid your future in this army is in jeopardy. So for now, you will remain a city warden. You will stay with your ward. You will not let her out of your sight. If I hear of another incident like this, I will remove you from all duties and you will become a civilian of the city. I will not tolerate this behavior anymore, Feredir. Is this understood?”

Feredir stood silent for a moment. He was angry, but he would not let it show. “Yes my Captain,” he finally replied.

“Good, now send in Terrwyn. I have a few things to discuss with her also,” Glandur said, dismissing Feredir.

* * *

Terrwyn sat outside the Captain’s office. She glanced at the guard standing next to the office door. He was like all elves, tall and fair. His hair was long, straight and the color of wheat. He wore the usual uniform, black and silver, a variation of the Gondorian uniform, but simple . . . simple like the lives the elves lived. She considered that for a moment. Were the lives of elves as simple as she had always imagined them to be? She remembered being in the Firien Wood, the first time she climbed up to Rosloch’s hut in the tree. There was a feeling of freedom being up there, looking out across the land as far as she could see. She could have spent endless days and nights just sitting up there, the warm summer breeze lifting her red waves from her face. This was what she imagined the lives of elves to be like, and maybe it was for some, but for those here in North Ithilien, it was more like the lives of men. There were politics and laws, rules to constantly follow and be aware of. Even their uniforms were fashioned more like those of men. Terrwyn remembered the elf warriors she had seen as a child at Helm’s Deep. Yes, they wore armor, but it was still a thing of beauty, the way it contoured to their bodies and looked like part of their own skin. Every part of them was elvish and that was what drew her to them. They were not influenced by men. Men were influenced by the elves then, in awe of their strength as well as their beauty.

Ithilien was beautiful indeed, and very elvish, but it was their minds that seemed to change. The elves were slowly leaving Middle-earth and taking their culture with them. The world would soon belong to men alone, so the elves did little to . . . well, to remain elves while they still walked these shores. They were stepping aside to allow men to rise. Terrwyn saw that now with this guard, with Glandur, even with Master Curuven. They seemed to quell that which was truly elvish, as if saving it for the day they reached those golden shores of Valinor. They were guarding their hearts, waiting for the time of their departure. Torn they were, between leaving Middle-earth, which for most was the only life they had known, and going to their secret world beyond.

Feredir . . . he was a different elf all together. Sometimes he was more man than elf, most of the time really. He was two different beings, divided by a sharp jagged edge. Only when the two personalities joined, smoothing that edge, could she see who he truly was. She had seen that deep in the ancient forest. She felt it when she looked at that arrow sticking out of the ground. That was his good heart speaking. That was his true elvish side.

As he lay upon her, kissing her and moving against her body, that too was his elvish entity. His real strength lay hidden until he chose to show it. Light as a feather he felt lying on top of her, yet every muscle was alive and tense. His kiss too told of his story. There was passion within him that no one had ever shared. Of course, she knew Feredir had been with many females, elves as well as human, but none had seen his soul. None had felt his love. Not even Terrwyn could claim that. It was not love he gave, but just a small glimpse of what he had locked away.

Terrwyn knew he was torn . . . torn between elf and human, immortality and mortality. He had told her there was no other choice but the life of an elf, but in that one moment that they connected, she felt his struggle. It was not an easy decision as he would have her believe. This made her want to know him better. She was very curious about him now. She wanted to know what made him this way. Why did he protect himself so adamantly? Why did he choose to show her this small window into the real Feredir? Why did she feel as if she could stay there forever in his world? He was like the hut in the tree, comfort and freedom. Terrwyn laughed to herself. The guard by the door moved only his eyes to see what she found so amusing, and then went back to staring at the wall across from where he stood.

Terrwyn thought how funny that seemed to her. The one person assigned to her, to make sure she remained imprisoned, was the one person that made her feel freedom. It was really too confusing. She should hate him, loath the very ground he silently walked on, but she could not deny the fact that her heart skipped a beat every time Feredir said her name, or looked her in the eyes. The slightest touch sent a spark racing beneath her skin. Something happened when he was near her, when he was more elf than man. Whatever it was, it mystified her, made her want him, made her want the elf . . . made her hate the man.

As Terrwyn sat quietly, drowned in her own thoughts, the door opened to Glandur’s office and Feredir stepped out. She lifted her head and captured his eyes. “The man,” she thought to herself. Anger festered behind his silver depths, partly aimed at her. Still, she longed for his elvish side, which seemed quite buried right now.

“The Captain would like a word with you.” Feredir’s tone was low, as if he would rather not speak to anyone, least of all her.

Terrwyn felt bad for what she’d done, for running away. She made Feredir’s life more miserable and now he didn’t trust her. As she got up from her chair, she looked to him, but he would not look at her. Just as she was beginning to understand him, he made himself unavailable, throwing up a wall so high, she may never see him again, not as she had seen him in the forest.

Feredir passed her, walking to the exit. As he did, he brushed against her. Terrwyn gasped. His effect on her was still quite prominent. She almost thought she heard him gasp also, a quick intake of air at the shock of their touch, but then maybe she wanted it too much and only imagined it. Terrwyn had a sudden urge to reach out and take his arm, let him know she was sorry, but Feredir was so cold towards her. To touch him now would be a mistake. She walked to the office door and put her hand on the knob, paused and looked over her shoulder. “I am sorry,” she whispered before she went inside.

Glandur was standing behind his desk, replacing a quill back into its inkpot. Without lifting his head, he rolled his eyes, looking at her through his lashes. Terrwyn knew that look. She had seen it before, but not since a child. That was the look of disappointment, the one that said, ‘I had so much faith in you, but now . . .’ There was no need to finish that thought.

“So, you attempted to escape. Is that true?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Would you mind explaining that to me? After all we have done for you here, after all our leniency, why would you take it upon yourself to run away?” Glandur’s tone was serious. He was very displeased.

“I . . . I don’t know why. I saw an opportunity so I took it,” she answered honestly.

“But why would you jeopardize your situation, our trust?” Glandur sincerely wanted to know the answer.

“Captain Glandur, I do appreciate the chance you have given me here. I realize you could just as easily lock me in a cell until my kinsmen came for me. Living here and working amongst the elves has been very rewarding. My whole life I have wanted this opportunity, though not for the same reasons. But I came to realize that time seems to stop, life slows to a snail’s pace when surrounded by immortals. I felt that I had lost track of what really mattered to me.”

Glandur came out from behind his desk and gestured for her to sit. Then he sat in the chair across from hers, folded his hands in his lap and straightened himself. “Did I not promise you that we would help you?”

“You did Captain, but as I said, time seems to slow greatly here in North Ithilien. It has been a month and not one word has reached me of any news. Do you realize winter is more than half over? Come spring, they will come to collect me. I will have no proof of my innocence and my hanging will be finalized. I do not have the luxury of time as the elves do.” Terrwyn paused, looking down at her hands that were shaking slightly.

Glandur noticed this. “There is something else, something more pressing that made you act out.”

A tear escaped her eye. “If I die, there will be no one left to look for my brother. I am all he has.”

Glandur’s heart was ripping apart by the sound of her voice. She still held out such hope, yet he could not help but think it was in vein. “My child,” he said sympathetically. “I understand this, I do. Not knowing is more painful than knowing and dealing with the pain afterwards. Yet, I cannot help but think that your needs are far greater than the outcome. You would risk your life and any hope for a future, just to find out that your brother has long since passed. This, I’m afraid, is what you would discover.”

Terrwyn’s eye lit up with an internal fire. “You do not know. You are not all seeing. If there is only a hair-widths chance that Hathmund is still alive, then I have purpose.” She spoke rather harshly to the Captain, something even his own soldiers did not do. This girl was determined and would never give up. “You of all people should know. Is it not the elves that taught men of hope? Have you separated yourselves so far from humans now, that you can no longer see how you have helped to shape us?” Terrwyn slumped in her chair. “Or do you not care now? Are you only waiting for the call of the sea, not giving any care about those left to their own in Middle-earth? Well, I have hope. One of your own taught me when I was a child never to give up as long as I believed and I believe there is still a chance that my brother lives. So, that is my answer Captain Glandur. Need overpowered my thoughts causing me to risk everything. So if you don’t mind, please tell me my punishment now so that I may be done worrying. If I am to be locked in a cell, so be it. I am ready.”

Glandur laughed, not what Terrwyn expected from him. She thought he would yell for the guards to come, bind her wrists and haul her off to the cells. “My, you have quite a fierce soul don’t you?”

“Sir?” she asked confused by his reaction to her outburst.

“You are right. You have said what many elves have felt lately. We have become so consumed with ourselves and our last plight to the shore, that it may seem we have left Middle-earth already. It is not intentional mind you. I for one am not ready to sail anytime soon. I feel there is much to do yet, but I see how it must look to you. I assure you though; we have not forgotten your case. If information has been scarce, it is my fault and I apologize. I have sent two of my men to Rohan, just as visitors mind you, guests of the King.” Glandur smiled a wicked grin. “But there is nothing saying they cannot inquire about a few things now is there?”

Terrwyn looked worried. “I’m not sure your plan will work. This matter does not involve Ithilien.”

“It does now that we are holding one of their own as a prisoner. Do not worry Lady Terrwyn. They will be discrete. The last thing I want is to endanger the relationship between Rohan and Ithilien. No actions will be taken, only inquiries. Perhaps we can find out more about the two men who you say are witnesses to the night in question. We will see. In the meantime, I cannot let it escape me that you attempted an evasion. I am afraid I must still hand out a punishment.” He stood from his chair and quietly thought for a moment. “Master Curuven will find some busy work for you to do, but I assure you it will have nothing to do with learning medicine. He will be informed immediately.”

Terrwyn was shocked. “That is it? No prison cells, no chains?”

“It will be hard labor and you might decide the cells would have been a better place to follow out your sentence.”

Glandur finished up with Terrwyn and sent her on her way. As she was leaving she turned back. “One more question, Captain. Will I be assigned a new warden?”

Glandur smiled. “No, Feredir will remain in charge.” He raised an eyebrow showing a humorous mood. “That is his punishment for not following orders.”

Terrwyn let out a sigh. She was not disappointed that Feredir was still her guard, but she did not look forward to his wrath. He would not be happy at all with her, but she could handle him. And maybe, just maybe, she could get to know him a little better. “That’s asking quite a lot,” she thought to herself and left Glandur’s office.


	24. One Last Fling

Chapter 24 - One Last Fling

 

“Oh gods, yes Feredir, yes!” Feona yelled as she climaxed. The elf lay on his back, allowing Feona the chance to take charge and ride him this night. He moaned quietly as she came but did not come himself.

Feona collapsed upon his chest, then rolled off and came to rest at his side. She laid there a while, recovering her breath and basking in the glow of her recent orgasm. Feredir was silent and still lying beside her. Feona’s hand ran down his firm abdominal muscles to the dark line of fine fuzz that started just below his bellybutton and ended above his half-hardened cock. Even partially aroused it was still gloriously large, and she gazed curiously. He did not seem to be himself tonight. Feredir was always very attentive to her wants and desires. It was what she liked most about having him share her bed. Feona had different lovers, but none as experienced or observant as him. He did not come around as often as some of her other suitors and was a real treat when he did. Still, he never seemed as distant as he did now.

“Your mind is elsewhere tonight, Feredir. I think I can honestly say I have never felt this from you before,” said the dark skinned beauty.

Feredir stared at the ceiling, lost in his deep thoughts, but heard her speak. His arm stretched out beneath her back and he pulled her to him. Feona rolled onto her side, burying her face in his neck and laid gentle kisses on his heated skin. “Something bothers you.”

“Oh, it is nothing but work is all,” he answered, hoping she would be satisfied with his reply.

Feona sat up on her elbow, looking down on his handsome fair face. Feredir was young for an elf, only one hundred and twenty five years, but he looked like a man of only twenty, had the stamina of one also. There was something to be said of elvish men. They were nothing like rugged men. They were more than handsome. Elves were beautiful, each in their own way. They were wisdom and knowledge, wild at times and charming at others. That was what attracted Feona to Feredir. He was a warrior, always ready to serve and protect his home, but just as willing to protect her. She remembered the first time she met him.

* * *

It was eight years ago. She was having particular trouble with a group of Gondorian business men, traders who had dealings out near the borders. These men made up their own rules, played their own games. On this particular night, they had too much to drink and thought they could demand more from Feona than just another round of ale. They grabbed her and tried to force her upstairs where rooms were available for rent. Feona was strong enough to handle one or two drunks, but five rather large and abrasive men was too much. The other patrons did nothing to stop the traders from forcing her upstairs and away from prying eyes and ears. They turned their heads, afraid to do anything and minded their own business. Then, as if summoned by magic, a black haired elf sprang up to her rescue, jumping over the stair railing and blocking their path. He wore a charming smile and spoke kindly to the men, asking them to release Feona and let her get back to work. He said that he was particularly thirsty after a month at the borders of Ithilien, and asked them to recommend the best ale available. As if lured by a spell, the men forgot all about Feona and joined the handsome elf for another round of beer. It was as if they were seduced by his charm and good humor. The bar maid got back to work and served the same men that were about to do unmentionable things to her upstairs. After many mugs and constant laughing, the men left the bar in better spirits than they had shown up in. Feona watched as Feredir patted each one on the back as they left. Then he came back and sat alone at the end of the bar. She didn’t know what to think of this elf, for there was no mistaking his race. Long black hair, thick as a horses mane, pale glowing skin, silver eyes that pierced the soul, this one was an elf no doubt. Finally, she plucked up the courage to speak to him.

“You saved me back there,” she commented as she wiped the bar top next to where he sat.

Without looking up, Feredir smiled and nodded. “I know when a lady is in distress.”

“Unfortunately, no one else here knows. If it wasn’t for you, I’m not sure just what would have happened.” Feona covered his hand with hers. “Thank you.”

He slowly looked up, studying her curvaceous body, full bosom, luscious lips, olive skin and finally met her dark eyes. “Something tells me you are a woman who can handle herself, but I think you were outnumbered. There was no harm done though and those men are on their way.”

“Those men are pigs. Most are who come here. This bar does not have the best reputation in Ithilien and it brings in some real heathens.” Almost immediately, she regretted those words. “Not that you are anything of the like,” Feona smiled. “Tell me, how did you calm them so quickly? They meant to do me harm had you not intervened. Their minds were racing with only one thought and their blood was racing to somewhere lower.”

Feredir laughed. “Well, you may be right there. Those men are crude and would have taken you without any care for you. I am no friend of theirs, but I do not want to make enemies either. Fighting and threats do not solve every situation.” He came to look into her eyes for the first time. There was a sense of security in them, and a sense of danger too. Feona knew he could overpower her just as easily as five men could and a part of her wished he would.

It was not the fact that he was an elf that held back that power. It was a sense of respect, a sense of pride for who he was and where he came from. In that single moment, she connected with him and Feredir with her. It was not love, never was. It was respect and curiosity mixed with attraction and lust. It was the perfect combination for both of them.

Feredir spent the rest of the evening sitting on that stool at the end of the bar, watching other patrons come and go. Men flirted with Feona and she gave them the attention they craved in return. The dark skinned woman amused him. She was very confident and others saw that in her, responded well to her. He liked that and felt comfortable around her, so much so that he came back the next night and the next, always sitting in the same spot.

Eventually they came to a point where friendly conversation was not enough. The relationship turned from one of friendship to physical satisfaction, which led them to where they were now, upstairs in her apartment in each other’s arms.

* * *

“You do not hide your concerns very well Feredir. Tell me what has happened lately. I may not have an answer to your problem, but I have a willing ear ready to listen to your story.”

Feredir smiled. “You always were a good listener. I guess it comes with the job, eh?”

“And what is it about your job that has your thoughts somewhere else?” Her hand came up to move his hair from the side of his face. Feona looked at him closely.

“As I said, it is nothing . . . just my ward causing problems,” he responded.

“You mean that pretty young thing with the red hair?” Feona asked, remembering seeing Terrwyn about town every so often. “Certainly, she cannot be giving you trouble.” Feona started to laugh, but stopped when she caught sight of a gleam in Feredir’s starry eyes. She knew that look, had seen it before. Feona was an astute observer of people. After years of being a bar tender, she had seen all walks of life and heard all of their joys and disappointments, but there was one thing that was unmistakable. She knew love when she saw it, and she saw it now deep within Feredir’s eyes. There were some things she knew about him that he was not able to see himself. Her heart felt as if it stopped beating for a moment. Yes, she knew that look and knew it was only a matter of time before he would come to recognize it too. As much as she hated the thought of losing him, she needed to know if her assumptions were correct. Feona decided to test him and see if he realized what she had seen in his unaware gaze.

“And even if she was giving you trouble, I doubt it would affect you to such a degree, not a warrior such as yourself.” Feona waited for his answer.

Even as she spoke, Feredir stared straight up at the ceiling. “Well, you would think not.” He paused then rolled onto his side to face her. “She just makes me wish I was back at the borders is all.”

Feona could tell he was hiding something and she had a good idea what that was. She lifted his chin with her fingers and brought his eyes up to meet hers. It had always been difficult to look at him so closely. Feredir was a charmer and seemed to have a sense of magic about him. How easy it would be to lose herself to him, to love him. It would not be right though. Feona knew a bit about people’s feelings, especially hidden ones. She forced a smile, her heart saddened by the thought. “You have feelings for this girl, don’t you?”

“For Terrwyn, of course not. I am her charge. That would be unacceptable,” he said defensively.

“It is not a matter of acceptance. It is a matter of the heart.” She rolled onto her back. “I knew this day would come. You are far too handsome and your heart has longed for this. Admit it Feredir, she has touched your soul.”

Feredir appeared to be somewhat bothered by her statement. “I have no time for such love games. Besides, the girl is more of a nuisance than anything. Do you know she tried to run from me? Me! Should have stuck her with my arrow.”

Feona laughed. “Let me guess, you could not. Of course, you could not. Admit it Feredir, you have feelings for her. It is alright you know. It happens to the best of us,” she jested.

Feredir remained silent for a while. He too rolled onto his back, lying next to Feona, until he found his voice again. “Has it happened to you? Have you ever fallen for one of your patrons?”

“Why yes it has. There was one man in particular, very tall, very handsome, skin almost as brown as mine. His hair was bleached by the sun with streaks of gold, brown eyes and a prominent brow. We struck up a conversation . . . hit it off real well. He said he was here on business for the King, so I knew he was an important figure.” Feona stopped, eyes in a daze as she remembered him. “I said to myself, what would he want with someone like me, a wine wench? One night alone would have been enough to satisfy my curiosity, and it did mind you, but then he came back. Came back every night he was here. I tried not to, but I fell for him. I fell hard too. We both fell, but our lives were not meant to pass. He was very kind and gentle with my heart. I cannot help but think if things were different, we might have been together, but he was an important man and I . . . just a bar maid. I never forgot him and probably never will.”

Feredir listened intently to her story and his heart ached for her. “Well, if he comes again, you should at least try. It sounds like you both felt something. You should not deny your heart, love.”

Feona smiled, but he could see the distant pain in her eyes. “Like I said, it would have never worked.” She rolled onto her side once more to face Feredir, tracing a finger along his jaw. “That man is now the King of Rohan.”

He understood right away, why she did not pursue this. He knew how royalty worked and outsiders were not welcomed. “I am sorry you were hurt.”

“I have no regrets. We both understood what we felt and that it could go no further. I am just happy I was able to experience it. At least I can say I know what love feels like. And it is not to say there is someone else out there who will capture my heart once again.” She cupped the side of his face, turning him towards her. “Do not go on without knowing, Feredir. Do not deny your heart what I see in your eyes. You have feelings for the girl, this I can see clearly.”

“She is troubled, Feona. It would not be good to become mixed up in something like this.”

“It goes deeper than that. Reach deep, Feredir. I know you have felt it. I see it in your eyes. Let whatever it is you feel for her surface. I know you well. You would not risk your heart if you did not think she felt the same thing for you. Tell me, has there been a moment where you connected . . . a look, a touch?”

Feredir creased his eyebrows, not wanting to admit or speak of it, but Feona was good at coaxing the truth out of people and he was no different. “There was a moment . . . a kiss.”

Feona smiled. “Ah, well that is something now isn’t it? And tell me, did something spark deep within your chest? Did you not want the moment to end? Could you feel her heart singing to yours?”

After a long resistant pause, he spoke. “There was something,” he answered shortly.

“That is enough then. Something is better than nothing and I know you would not have let things get so far over nothing.” Feona sat up, pulling the sheet around her mid-section. Her long black hair hung down her tanned back. Feredir watched her. He could almost feel her sigh. She was trying to remain strong and unaffected, but he felt her sadness. Feona was special to him and he did not want to hurt her. He reached out and touched her back. “Feona . . . I--.”

“You love her Feredir, or at least you have felt stirrings of love,” she said, not facing him and afraid he would hear the disappointment in her voice. She didn’t want him to fall for another, yet she knew he could never fall for her. Feona swallowed the lump in her throat and put on her best smile before turning to him. “You are a hard one to break. She must be very special, trouble or no.” Feredir did not answer her, but she already knew the answer. She had seen that look before. But instead of convincing him to forget about this woman, Feona continued on with her emotionless front. “Do not let this slip away. You are an elf. You cannot lie, even to yourself.”

“I am only half elf,” he said, attempting one last shot at denial.

“It does not matter. Your heart is elvish and it speaks loudly. Even I can feel it. I see it. I hear it in your voice. Give this a chance or regret it forever.”

“I’m afraid she despises me. I have been very tough on her as her guard. I have taken out my anger on her, belittled her. Why should I think she has any feelings towards me but hate?” His question was honest, as if he wanted an answer.

“Love conquers all. That is all you need to know. But you need to gain her trust, her respect. This is very difficult since you are her guard. Your situation is not normal, but it is not unreachable. Show her the Feredir that I know, the gentle caring one. Do not guard her, but protect her. Hear what she has to say. Listen to her story . . . listen even closer to her heart.” Feona got on her knees and straddled Feredir’s hips. She smiled down at him, memorizing everything about him. Something told her this would be their last moments together. He had found love, even if he did not realize it yet. He did not need to visit her any longer. She would miss him, but she would have it no other way. Feredir was special. He deserved this chance.

Unable to deny her feelings any longer, a single tear traveled down Feona’s cheek. Feredir reached up and wiped it with his thumb, then cupped her face in his hand. “We should not talk about such things. Wasn’t that one of the rules you set for me? Never speak about our personal lives in the bedroom. I have upset you and for that, I am sorry. But really, I think you are wrong about this.” He sat up, keeping her on his lap. “I still think we have many nights left,” he whispered and kissed her gently.

Feona knew he was only fooling himself. The eyes were the window to the soul and she could see far into his. He felt something for Terrwyn. He would pursue it eventually and Feona would be forgotten about once again. Why was she convincing him to go after the young Rohirric girl? Why did she not tell him to forget about his problems and concentrate on her needs this night? She had done it before with other men. Feredir was different. As much as she wanted him for herself, she knew it was not right. If he had indeed found love, he should not hesitate to follow it through, no matter the outcome.

As she fought her emotions, Feredir began kissing her neck and her shoulder. He may be on the verge of finding true love, she thought, but right now, he was with her. This moment would be their last. Another lover gone, taken by cupid’s arrow, the only one better with a bow than Feredir, she laughed to herself.

His hands cupped her naked breasts as he hardened against her belly. “There is still enough night left. I would have you make love to me, and this time I would have you find your own pleasure too,” she cooed.

Without another word, Feredir lifted her by her hips and lowered her onto his stiffened arousal. They made love once more, as if they were saying goodbye. It was the end of an affair, one last fling with the wine wench of the Hallowed Leg, she thought to herself.

He changed his position, lowering her to her back, and then pounded into her hard and deep. As he always did, Feredir had Feona find her release before he took his. Only when he was sure she was satisfied did he spill into her, holding himself still while she squeezed him from inside. He had been with other women, but none as exotic as her, with her dark skin and black hair. Every man would want a woman like her. Even Feredir tried to convince himself in the past that he could learn to love her. He felt the need to take care of her, but when she sensed this from him, she hardened back up, hiding behind a smile and lying eyes. Maybe she had thought the same about him. If only they had loved each other . . . but their feelings were not that strong.

After they were spent, Feredir held her in his arms and stroked her hair. “You will find someone, Feona. You will find a man who will love you and you will be happy.”

Not wanting his pity or his concern, she buried her sadness and replaced it with her usual attitude. “I already am happy,” she smiled against his chest. “I would not trade my life, but I will gladly welcome the right man into it. Worry not for me. I have survived this long. If it is meant to happen, it will happen.” Her last sentence came out as a whisper. Feredir could tell she did not fully believe her own words. Feona was lonely. He was lonely, though he was too proud to admit it. That was what drew them to each other in the first place. 

He started to speak, but she beat him to it. “Just promise me you will follow through with this. I think this girl is the one, Feredir. Do not let the chance slip away from you.”

Feredir kissed the top of her head as he cradled her. Even now, she would deny herself happiness. “Thank you,” he whispered, not sure what else to say to her. He waited until she fell into a deep sleep, then he dressed and slipped out the door.

Feona woke up a few hours later. The sun had risen and the morning was well underway. She looked over to the empty side of her bed, pulled the pillow to her and curled up into a fetal position. Feredir’s scent still lingered over the white silky material. Unable to hold back any longer, she cried until her tears ran dry. She would miss Feredir, the only elf to share her bed. “If only he loved me,” she sighed. “Then I would have shared my life with him.” It wasn’t meant to be. This was not as hard as losing the only man she ever loved, Eomer King, but it came in a close second. However, Feona was strong. She would pull herself together, put on her barmaid face and survive. After all that was what she was good at. But for now, she allowed herself to grieve for her lost elven lover. There would never be another like Feredir. She would never forget this elf.


	25. Punishment

It was a new day and Terrwyn waited for Feredir to come for her and escort her to Master Curuven’s healing house. Today, she would find out what punishment the Master Healer had in store. She did not know, but could only imagine it would be something hard and strenuous. No matter, she would take it whatever it was. She at least deserved that much for breaking the trust she had developed with the Ithilien elves, especially Feredir. Their last conversation had been harsh. He called her a liar, thought she deliberately seduced him so he would set her free. That was not her intention. And the kiss . . . that came from nowhere. It was just one moment, one unexpected moment, but it felt like forever with his lips upon hers and his body covering her own. What could make him behave in such a way? He changed from arrogant guard to a wild sexual beast, and she liked it. But then she ruined the moment when she spoke to him. When she asked him to let her go, he turned back into the usual obnoxious guardsman and everything else was lost. Maybe it was what she deserved. Her life had gotten out of control. She was lost, had no home, no family. Those that tried to help her no longer trusted her now. Once again, she was alone even though the Captain said they would still help her. Terrwyn could not see how. The elves could not get involved in her troubles. There were no witnesses that tragic night that started all of this. It was useless. She knew this. It was better to just take her punishment now and wait out the time until someone sent for her to return to Rohan. She would fight and defend herself until her dying breath, if that was all she could do. Terrwyn would not give up, no matter if they believed her or not.

There was a soft knock on the door. Feredir was here to escort her to the Master Healer’s house. The door unlocked and the elf stood there in his usual guard uniform. “Are you ready?” he asked.

Terrwyn simply nodded and walked to the door, but when she tried to leave, Feredir stood in her way. It forced her to look up at him. She was in no mood to hear his insults this morning. “Let me get my day started. I have not the energy to banter with you this morning.”

Feredir stepped aside and Terrwyn walked past him. The tension between them could be cut with a blade. It was no less than the elf expected. They walked in silence to Master Curuven’s house. Terrwyn stepped into his waiting room and saw it was going to be a busy day. Waiting was a woman with a baby that was crying, a man with his arm in a makeshift splint and an old man hunched over rubbing his knobby knuckles. Terrwyn had been doing this long enough that she could already guess what medicines she would be mixing for these patients. However, that was not her job anymore.

She looked back when she heard Feredir whispering. He was down on one knee next to the woman, smiling and saying something elvish to the baby. His large hand covered the infant’s bald head and the child instantly calmed. The woman thanked him with a nod of her head as Feredir stood back up. Terrwyn had never seen him do anything like this before. All she had ever seen was his guardsman persona. So he did have a gentle and caring side too. Why couldn’t he show that side more often?

As Feredir turned away from the woman and child, his gaze caught Terrwyn’s briefly. The smile had not left his face yet. Surely, it was not meant for her. His stare captured her for a moment, those eyes of silvery stars. Her breath caught when she thought the smile really was meant for her. A mistake, she thought to herself and broke away from him, turning her eyes to the floor. Terrwyn went to the office door and went to find Curuven and learn her punishment.

Master Curuven was sitting at his bench, crushing dried leaves and what not. He looked up and smiled when he saw Terrwyn. “Ah, my dear girl, it is nice to see you this morning. I see you have decided to stay with us a while longer,” he teased.

Terrwyn was speechless, shocked by his greeting. Feredir laughed under his breath. “She does not yet understand the ways of the elves.”

Obviously not, she thought to herself. They should be upset with her, strict and unmoving, ready to hand down her punishment. Instead, Curuven was just as kind and understanding as ever. Still ashamed of her behavior, Terrwyn bowed her head and looked at the floor, wishing it would open up and swallow her. “Please, just assign me to my new duties so that I may get started with my day.”

Curuven looked to Feredir who shrugged his shoulders. “Feredir, will you give us a moment? Do not leave though. I will need you again.”

Feredir nodded and went to the small room at the very back of the working area. As he passed Terrwyn, she inhaled his scent. She could not explain it but to say it was like inhaling fresh air after being indoors over a long period of time. To be near him was to be refreshed, at least until he spoke, she thought. Then he lost all his charm.

Master Curuven gestured for Terrwyn to have a seat in a chair next to his workbench. She did and he went right back to grinding his dried leaves. She sat there waiting for him to say something, hands securely clasped in her lap. After a long silence, watching him work, Terrwyn spoke. “Will you not tell me what my punishment is?”

Curuven smiled without looking up from his work. “And watching me crush leaves is not punishment enough?”

“Well, it is rather boring, I must admit, but sitting here not doing anything just does not seem right when there is a waiting room full of people needing your help.”

“Why do you think they call it a waiting room?” the Master teased again.

Terrwyn thought he was in an unusual mood. “I just do not understand. You should be furious with me. I broke your trust. Actually, I do not understand why I am not in a cell right now.”

“You know what you have done and you know it was wrong.” Curuven got up and walked to a cabinet across the room. He took out a vial of dark liquid and a jar with some sort of white powder, and brought them back to his workbench. He kept working as he spoke. “Elves do not have the time it takes to teach lessons to those who already know the wrong they have done. The guilt you feel is lesson enough, wouldn’t you say? Besides, you never would have made good with your plans of escape. Feredir is not the only set of eyes on you.”

“I am sorry Master Curuven. I should not have run and if you want to send me from your care I will understand.” Terrwyn was very sincere with her apology.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. I think I know what you can do for me that will not only be helpful, but will suffice as punishment all the same. Captain Glandur has already told me to take away your healing privileges, which I will do, at least for a while. Still, there are other things I need done that have nothing to do with medicine.”

Curuven smiled fiendishly then called Feredir back in. “Take her to the stables.”

The stables she thought to herself. Of course, that was where they would send her. That was where she started out at in her young life, shoveling hay and horse dung. Would they tell her to sleep there also? Would she wish for the uncomfortably thin mattress of her barracks cot over a dirty stable floor?

* * *

The height of winter had passed and the days were once again slowly lengthening. People were busy with their daily routines, going here and there. Patrons filled the shops. Besides the crispness in the air of the winter breeze, it was rather sunny. The sky was blue, not a cloud in sight. Winter birds hopped from branch to branch, chirping and peeping to each other. The fountain in the center of town still trickled water. Feredir proceeded to lead Terrwyn across the courtyard towards the road that led to the stables.

He was so very tall that it took a couple of her steps to match just one of his. Terrwyn felt as if she were running to keep up. He seemed to be in a hurry and she knew why. He was angry with her. He probably just wanted to get rid of her. Maybe he had orders to drop her off at the stables and then go on to another duty for the day. She had felt bad for what she’d done, for getting him in trouble.

“I’m sorry if I got you into any kind of a mess. There must be a better place you would like to be than guarding me,” she said as she trotted along behind him.

“It is what it is. I have a duty to attend. Besides, I believe you won’t be trying any more tricks for a while.” He sounded stern, but not as abrasive as usual.

Soon they were at the stable, large with many windows and very well kept. A horses head popped out from this window or that, checking to see who the newcomers were. Feredir opened the doors and Terrwyn went in. She gazed down the long hay covered hall. It was bigger than it looked from the outside. Stable boys were already busy going here and there, saddling horses, brushing some, others shoveling stalls. Terrwyn took a good look at them, figuring she would be working with them for a while. Feredir walked past her down the hall, then stopped and turned. “Come along. There is someone I think you should meet.”

Terrwyn hurried to catch up to him. He stopped in front of one of the stables and smiled. “It has been a long time since you have seen your friend,” he said and made a clicking noise with his tongue. The large black head of a horse came up and looked over the stall door. Terrwyn’s heart instantly filled with joy.

“Brannoss,” she sang as she reached out to him. The horse nodded many times, his large brown eyes lighting up when he saw his rider. “Oh Brannoss, I wondered what had become of you.” She patted his nose.

“Go on then. Give him a real welcome,” Feredir said as he opened the door for her. Terrwyn looked to Feredir. He was different somehow. This was not how he usually behaved around her.

She smiled and went into the stable. Brannoss whinnied quietly as if relieved to see a familiar face. He was in wonderful shape, very well taken care of. “Who owns him now?” she asked, picking up a brush and running is along his sides.

“You have always been his owner. The stable hands take care of him and make sure he is ridden, but he belongs to you.” Feredir seemed a little surprised by her question. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, I just thought with everything that’s happened . . . I figured he would have been given to a good home by now.”

Feredir came into the stall, closing the door behind him. “You are from Rohan. You should know that a horse like Brannoss only has one rider. Once there is a bond, it cannot be broken. You are his rider. He trusts you.” As he spoke, Brannoss nudged Terrwyn in the back, pushing her rather hard and making her stumble unexpectedly. Feredir caught her by her arms and kept her from falling. The warmth of her skin felt good against his palms. The scent of rosewater filled his nostrils. He held her for a moment before letting her go. Feredir could not deny the fact that Terrwyn was very beautiful, troublesome but beautiful.

Terrwyn righted herself, but paid no attention to Feredir now. She turned back to Brannoss. “I guess I deserved that, didn’t I? Well, I am sorry my friend. I am sorry for disappearing like that, but I had no choice.” Terrwyn laid her head on his ribcage, listening to him breathe as her thoughts took her back to that awful night in Edoras. “You should know. You were there,” she whispered.

Feredir’s elvish hearing picked up what she said. He realized the beast had been there on the night in question. He had probably witnessed what happened. He helped her escape, brought her to Gondor. There was a closer bond between these two, horse and rider, than he had realized.

“What happened, Terrwyn?” he asked quietly.

Terrwyn’s mind raced. Being in the stable with Brannoss brought back a lot of familiar and horrible memories and smells. She had a far off look in her eyes as she remembered the feel of her assailants strong grip, being pushed down, legs spread, clothes torn . . . alone. She remembered the feel of her knife slicing flesh and muscle, felt the pop of tendons and then the sight of blood spraying from his neck. “I can’t speak of it. It was too horrible,” she finally managed to say.

For the first time, Feredir’s heart went out to her. Something very terrible happened to her in Rohan. Even now, he still did not know her full story. He was her guard, but it was not his duty to know the details of her arrest. She had been accused of a crime, ran from authorities, captured in Minas Tirith and brought to Ithilien. Now she waited for her kinsmen to retrieve her and take her back to her homeland for trial. That was all he knew. That was all he cared to know. It was none of his business, but now he was curious. Feredir figured she was a thief, an imposter maybe. Looking at her now, he realized something far worse happened.

Feredir reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I do not mean to pry.”

She turned her head to look at him, her long red waves falling across the back of his hand, soft beautifully thick hair. Tears stained her eyes and he wished to wipe away the one that threatened to fall down her cheek. “I thought you knew,” she answered. “You asked me once and I told you it was murder.

“I was not given any details as to your arrest. Because of that, I thought your charges were minor, theft perhaps. I thought you were telling stories when you said that, being we were not on the best speaking terms at the time.”

Terrwyn smiled. “Theft is one of them, but murder is my main crime.” She stepped away from Brannoss, now standing at Feredir’s side. “That is all you need to know then, since it is not your duty to know everything.” She needed to change the subject from the current one and getting started with her punishment seemed to suffice. “So, where shall I start, shoveling stables, sweeping floors? Perhaps there is a horse that needs to be readied for its rider.”

Feredir looked at her curiously. “What are you talking about?”

“My punishment, of course. I am to work in the stables, am I not?”

He laughed. “Work in the stables? That is not your punishment.” He patted Brannoss on the neck and spoke elvish to the black beast. The horse snorted and nodded its large head as if he understood what the elf was saying. Terrwyn was amazed to see how quickly Brannoss responded to him.

“Have you visited him before?” she asked curiously.

“No, I have only just learned that you had a horse,” he answered noticing the surprised look on her face. “You really have a lot to learn about elves, don’t you? I am a wood elf. Our race lives harmoniously with nature be it plant or animal. Have you never heard of the elves talking to the trees?”

“Why yes, but--.”

“But you thought it was all just a myth,” he said shaking his head and wearing that arrogant smile again. “Of all the beasts and animals, our greatest gift as a companion is our horse, all horses as a matter of fact. Especially as a warrior, we must have a line of trust and love so that we can be as one during battle. The horse becomes an extension of our own bodies, moving and thinking as one. Therefore, we can speak to them and they understand. I can’t say it is as much the words as it is a feeling that allow us to understand each other.” Feredir paused and crossed his arms. “You of all people should know that. Are the Rohirrim not the same in this way? Horse masters they call you, tamer of beasts.”

Terrwyn stood tall in a defensive stance. “We take offence to that title . . . horse master. It is as you have just said. We share a bond. They trust us and therefore they will go with us to every battle, proud to fight with us. We do not ‘master’ them.”

Feredir felt that fire from within her once again. Whenever she spoke of her heritage, her spirit shined fully. He liked that about her. Terrwyn was not afraid to stand up for herself or her people. He had heard about the loyalty of the people of Rohan to their country. He saw it now from this blazed beauty. She was like fire, astonishing and wondrous to behold, but get too close and she could burn him. Maybe he wanted to feel her fire, see what she felt when she was like this. He certainly could understand it. He was a proud elf warrior of Mirkwood. Yes, he dwelled in Ithilien now and protected it just the same, but Mirkwood was his home. That was truly where his heart lay and he had that same fire for his home as Terrwyn had for hers.

“I stand corrected then. I shall never use the term again,” he apologized. Terrwyn’s eyes were still wild and captured him. For a moment, the two countries mingled together within their stare, grass plains and lush forests, the smell of open dry air and humid forest decay. They were two very different places, but both with the same feel of home.

Feredir shook himself from the moment. “Come on then. Let us be on our way. There is a lot of work to be done.”

“So if I am not to work in the stables, then what have I been sent to do?” she asked. Feredir once again headed off taking his long strides, leaving Terrwyn behind to play catch up. They left Brannoss’ stall and walked the long length of the stable, exiting out of the opposite end.

A great workhorse stood attached to a flatbed wagon. It was very rustic looking; a seat on metal rusty springs barely big enough to hold two people. The bed itself looked like it had seen better days and Terrwyn wondered that it would not fall apart when they ran over the first pothole they encountered.

“What are we doing with that?” she asked disgustedly.

Feredir laughed, enjoying being the one to hand her her punishment. “We are riding out to the forest. You,” he said putting emphasis on the word. “. . . are gathering firewood for Master Curuven.”

“Firewood?” she said surprised. “That is to be my chastisement?” Terrwyn was shocked. At first, it didn’t seem like much. As a girl, she and her brother had gathered firewood all the time. That was part of their daily chores. Thinking this would be easy, she smiled at the elf, ready to take her punishment proudly and then return to start practicing her medicine again. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get moving.”

Terrwyn stood by the wagon a moment, inspecting it. “Is it safe?”

“I would not let you on if I thought it wasn’t,” Feredir replied. He was enjoying this, but of course, he knew there was more to it than gathering firewood. Maybe ‘gathering’ was not the right choice of word. Oh well, she would be mad at him again, but that was nothing new.

They hopped up onto the seat. Terrwyn was correct in her assumptions about its size. It was rather small and she squashed up against him, not that she minded too much. She would not admit it, but she rather enjoyed the feel of his leg against hers. She could feel the muscles in his thigh that she hadn't realized he had from just looking at him. Hard sinewy muscles beneath brown leggings, not that she cared.

He took the reins and clicked his tongue. The horse started walking slowly until they were out on the cobblestone road, then he went into a trot. Every once in a while, Feredir’s arm rubbed against her soft skin. Again, she felt his archer strength. He really was magnificent to behold. She felt a sense of security with him, and not just because he was her guard. He had been nice to her today, never once calling her that horrid name he always used. He even allowed her to visit Brannoss. That’s when she realized she hadn’t thanked him.

“I really appreciate what you did back there, in the stable. Truly, I thought someone else bought Brannoss by now. I did not expect the elves to keep him for me. It was like seeing an old friend.”

“It was nothing. I thought it might cheer you up to see him again. I think he misses you and it gladdened his heart to see you too,” Feredir smiled.

“You know, you’re not so bad when you are not acting like the haughty, self-opinionated guard that you usually are,” Terrwyn admitted.

“And you are not so bad when you are not acting like a winded chatterbox.”

Terrwyn shot him a sidelong glance. “I will ignore that last comment.”

They rode out of town and followed a dirt wagon trail to an older part of Ithilien. This area looked as though it sustained heavy damage from the war. There were many dead trees, some lying on the ground and some still upright sticking sadly into the sky. Terrwyn watched Feredir’s reaction to the sight before them. “It saddens you to see this, doesn’t it?”

“Some of these trees were hundreds of thousands of years old. Some of my ancestors walked among their branches. It is a shame to see such destruction. I will never understand why anyone would want to harm something so defenseless.” His solemn voice was barely a whisper.

“Why did the elves not help to regrow this part of Ithilien?” she asked.

“It is said that there was a battle here. Many men lost their lives when others did not come to their aid. Their blood has soaked into the soil. New trees will not grow here yet. The elves left it this way to remind the survivors that without unity there can be no future. It is my hope that the trees will grow here again someday, that men will remember long after the elves have all sailed and forever unite.”

The mention of elves sailing saddened Terrwyn’s heart. She looked at Feredir and could see conflict in his face. “You do not know yet whether you will stay or sail, do you?”

“It is true that I have a choice and I never gave it much thought when I was younger. I have always felt more elf than human. I just always assumed that I would sail with the others,” he answered. “But there are more things to consider now that I am older.”

Terrwyn was about to ask him more about his background when Feredir brought the cart to a stop. Just as quickly as the dark mood appeared, it disappeared and he was once again smiling, a bit of swagger coming back into his silver eyes. “Well, here we are.” He reached under the seat and pulled out a pair of worn gloves that looked two sized too big. “You can wear these so you won’t chip a nail or get blisters. We wouldn’t want to injure your pretty little hands now would we? If you need anything else, it is in the chest at the foot of the cart.”

Terrwyn stood there, dumbfounded watching him head off to the nearest living tree. He easily hopped up and assumed his usual position on a branch, just as he had done when she was picking herbs, roots, and such. That was so like him, like the elf she knew. There was no explanation, no help, not that she needed any. She looked around at the area. There seemed to be plenty of stuff to collect.

His comments seared a hot spot in the back of her brain. “Chipped nails, indeed,” she thought to herself. “He hasn’t the slightest idea of how hard I’ve worked my whole life. Gathering wood is not a punishment. I’ll show him and not complain once. I’ll just do my job and soon I’ll be out of these weeds.”

Half way through the day, Feredir produced a bag full of fruit, took an apple for himself and tossed the rest down to Terrwyn. They didn’t speak much. Terrwyn just wanted to gather her wood and be done with it. A couple more hours, and she figured she would be done. Most of the wood around here was fallen logs too big for her to handle.

Even with it being winter, she still worked up a sweat. Her arms were bruised from carrying branches. Her back hurt from bending over. Her feet ached from constantly walking over stones protruding out of the ground. The cart was almost half-full and there was nothing more to gather. Feredir silently leapt down from his tree and joined her at the wagon. She was out of breath and she looked exhausted.

“Well, that is about all I can manage. We can head back and deliver this to Master Curuven,” she panted heading for the front of the wagon.

“Oh,” he cried cheerfully. “You are not done yet, though what you have done so far has been very productive.”

Terrwyn didn’t like his tone. She turned a murderous eye towards him. “What do you mean I’m not done yet,” she hissed.

“There is plenty of wood to collect yet and the cart is only half full.” He smiled in that way that made Terrwyn want to rip his pointed ears right off his egotistically large head. Then he produced an ax from the chest he told her about. “You never even looked in here did you? These are your tools that you’ll need to finish the job.” He handed her the ax and crossed his arms.

“You . . . want me . . . to chop wood?” she asked through clenched teeth. “You could not have mentioned this from the beginning?” Her voice was getting louder with every word. “I have been running all over this forest gathering wood. And let me remind you, you lout, that you said ‘gathering’, not chopping. There is a difference you know.”

Feredir simply smiled, but had enough smarts to step back a few feet, out of the range of an ax swing. “I told you about the chest. You should have known there were tools in there for completing the job.”

Terrwyn picked up the ax, holding it in both hands in front of her and looking very dwarf-like all of a sudden. “Why, you rotten son of a--.”

“I will remind you, Lag that you are not in charge here. I am still your guard and you have work to do. Now get back to it.” His voice was stern once again. Even though he did not think she would actually strike out at him, she still held her stance. No woman had ever threatened him, least of all a young woman of Rohan.

The look Terrwyn shot him would have brought down a heard of oliphants. He was right of course. This was her punishment for trying to escape. She had no argument. If she had to chop wood then she would do it without further disagreement. She glared at Feredir for a long moment. He never dropped his eyes from her either. She could tell he was waiting for her to start a yelling match, one in which he would probably enjoy and win at. Terrwyn would not give him the pleasure. Chip a nail my ass, she thought to herself. She would not give him the satisfaction. So, instead of reminding him what a pompous son of an orc he could be, she lifted the head of the ax up and examined it, then rolled her eyes to him. “Is it sharp?” she muttered in a low tone.

Feredir did not answer, but stepped aside as she marched off towards the woods once again. He did not expect her to give in so easily. He was waiting for her to cry and carry on about how women did not chop wood, etc. When she did not, when she stomped off and started chopping at the first log she came to, Feredir felt a newfound respect for Terrwyn. This woman could hold her own. If she could take his bantering, then she must be very strong indeed. Still, he would give it about an hour and expect to see her whining, he thought. Off he went back to his post in the tree. Aye, he’d be glad when this day was done.


	26. The Healer's Wife

Chapter 26 - The Healer’s Wife

 

Terrwyn’s whole body ached. Her arms were practically numb from the jolting shock every time she brought her ax down onto a log. The bones in her spine felt as though they were about to crack and shatter like a fine porcelain vase. Sweat stung her eyes. Blisters formed on her hands, even with the gloves Feredir gave her. They were two sized too big and her hands slid around inside them. She wanted nothing more than to lie down on the forest floor and cry herself into a never-ending slumber. Then she would glance over to Feredir, sitting nonchalantly in his tree, which seemed more like a throne to her now. That smug son of a bitch would get nothing from her. She just knew that was what he was waiting for. He probably even came up with a set time for how long it would take her to cave under the pressure. She would not give him the satisfaction.

Terrwyn finished another log and was carrying it to the cart when her legs just gave out and buckled beneath her. She dropped to the ground, her arms doing nothing to break her fall, but her face took the brunt of it.

“Terrwyn!” she heard from above. In a split second, Feredir was by her side. She expected sympathy but got none. “What are you thinking, woman? I told you two hours ago to take a break, but you will not listen to me will you?”

“You will only tease and harass me,” she whispered with a raspy voice. “You’ll call me Lag again and I cannot bear to hear it.” She was on the verge of tears.

Feredir knelt next to her, pushing the sweaty hair from her face. He had been rather hard on her. Why did he treat her like this? A part of him cringed every time he did so, though he squashed those thoughts every time they rose. Now he could see how it affected her. She would work herself to death before she would let him see her anguish. “Here,” he said, handing the water skin she had dropped.

Her face flushed to a shade of pale white even too fair for an elf. She did not look good and Feredir worried for her. She sat up and took the skin. “I guess I have no choice but to stop now. Go on then. Get your patronizing out of the way so that I may be done waiting for it,” she retorted.

“I guess I deserve that don’t I,” he admitted. He looked to the ground and sighed heavily. “Look, I apologize for my comments and I promise not to call you that name again. I did not realize how it affected you. It is just a common term the guards use for their wards, another word for prisoner.”

“Well, it feels more like a blow to the stomach every time I hear it,” she growled. Then she realized too, that she needed to be more kind. She could tell this was not easy for him to admit. With a kinder voice, she spoke. “I accept your apology. Thank you.”

Feredir stood up and looked at the cart. She had worked all day and had only managed to chop up two small logs. He looked to his left, picked up the ax and headed to the woods. Terrwyn watched him from where she sat. In all actuality, she didn’t have the strength to stand, but she could not let this go unnoticed. “Feredir, what are you doing? This is my burden to bear, not yours. Just give me a moment and I’ll get back to work.”

He stopped, looked at the cart again and then to Terrwyn. With a smile and kindness in his eyes, he spoke. “You have accomplished a lot for the day, much more than I thought possible for a human, and a woman at that. The Captain may not approve, but I think you have served your punishment well enough. I’ll finish up so that we can get back to town.” He nodded his approval and went to the woods.

She could not stand up for herself in this weak state. Actually, it was a welcomed break and she was glad for it. An ax striking wood sounded and she looked up to find Feredir working on a log. He had removed his shirt. She watched as the muscles in his arms flexed and moved with every strike. The skin of his smooth chest glistened in the filtered light beneath the trees. He had tied his long hair back into a ponytail to keep it out of his face as he worked. She could see the prominent features of his face, his stern jaw, perfectly pointed ears, dark brows set above mesmerizing silver eyes. And his lips so full and kissable. Terrwyn’s memory revisited their run-in in the woods. She had felt those lips upon hers, felt his weight as he covered her, felt his desire hardening against her thigh.

Terrwyn was lost in her thoughts and did not notice how silent it became. “Feeling better now?” he asked, forcing her to shake her thoughts. There he stood like a god. Oh, but he was all elf in this form. She licked her lips, as her eyes seemed to focus on his naked chest.

“Oh . . . yes. I believe I am,” she answered, a slight smile on her face. Feredir sat on a log close to where she sat on the ground and she glanced over to him. “You’ll catch your death, sweating and exposed to the elements like that. There is a chill in the air.”

Feredir laughed. “Elves do not feel the cold as humans do. Besides, the sun has warmed the day nicely.” He tilted his head up and breathed deep. “I think it will be an early spring this year.”

Terrwyn sighed and whispered under her breath. “I hope not.”

Feredir felt her reserve. He knew what the spring meant for her. “They will come for you then, won’t they? Your kinsmen?” he asked.

“Yes, at least that is what I’ve been told. Travel is too difficult during the winter months.”

Feredir sat silent for a while. He picked up a stick and drew shapes in a sandy spot on the forest floor. Terrwyn watched. “What is that?”

“That is a beech tree, the symbol of my home,” he said quietly.

Terrwyn thought he seemed so lonely hearing him speak of home. She knew he was a wood elf of Mirkwood. In Rohan, they told many stories about the Rhovanion lands. It was said to be very dark and evil, or at least it was at one time. If the spiders did not strike, the wild elves surely would, and they would not miss. Feredir seemed nothing like the vision she had of the wood elves. Now she wondered why he left his home. “What brought you to Ithilien, if you don’t mind my asking?” She suddenly felt very comfortable sitting next to him. He had an air about him that exuded protection, as if she could rest easily as long as he was close.

“I lived my whole life in Mirkwood. I battled many enemies and gave the army all of my time and talent. When I learned that our Prince was establishing a new colony to rebuild Ithilien, I knew it was where I was needed most,” he said proudly. “It is also a part of Gondor, the other half of my heritage. I was always curious about my human kin and I knew moving to Ithilien would put me closer to my ancestors.”

Terrwyn glanced at his chest again, noticing raised white scars. “Are those from the battles you speak of?”

Feredir nodded. “Spiders, orcs, goblins . . .,”he paused and laughed. “Ex-lovers.”

Terrwyn raised an eyebrow, but Feredir cut her off before she could ask. “None of your business,” he said smiling. His eyes turned up to the sky. “We had best be getting back soon, before the sun gets much lower and the night air settles in.”

Feredir stood up and offered Terrwyn his hand. He helped her to her feet, on which she was still a little wobbly. As he steadied her, he felt the heat from her hand. She flinched and he turned her palms upward. There were blisters on her hands, proof of how hard she had worked. He furrowed his brow as he observed them. “A woman’s hands should never look like this. I wish you would have told me sooner.”

Terrwyn was taken aback by his sudden changes. She could see that he did not like seeing any kind of injury to a female. “Had I not fallen, I still would not have told you.”

He took her chin in his fingers and forced her to look at him. “Do you distrust me so much that you would torture yourself in this manner?”

Terrwyn tried not to look at his eyes. She looked at his lips, but that was not much better. Every part of him made her body spark. Not looking at him at all was the only solution, but he held her in place. She could not avoid him and rested her green eyes upon him. “It is not distrust, but rather satisfaction. The satisfaction in knowing I did what I was told, that I did not cry and whine, did not falter. You do not fool me Feredir. I know what you think of women in your own mind. We are easily seduced. We always get our way. We are a burden. I am a burden. You would not be here if it weren’t for me. I saw the look you gave me in the Master’s healing house. You do not want this. This is a part of your punishment too. You wish to be rid of me so that you can get back to the borders with your friends and warriors. Being a prison warden is far beneath you, beneath your skills as a warrior.” She reached up and removed his fingers. Looking to the ground, she frowned. “No, you do not want this.”

The forest seemed unusually quiet at that moment, as if all the creatures themselves were waiting for a reply. When Feredir did not speak right away, Terrwyn knew her answer. Just when she had accepted the fact, the elf spoke. “I did not want it before, but now . . .” He left it at that.

Terrwyn’s heart beat a little faster as he almost admitted something. Did he want to be here after all? Not wanting to sound desperate for an explanation, she said nothing and let the conversation end there. She took a step and fumbled, her body still battered from the days hard work. Feredir reached out and took her arm. “Come on, Naru. Let’s get you home.”

Another name, she thought to herself. Why did he always have to insult her? “I thought you were done with the name calling. What is it this time, lazy, stubborn?”

“Relax, it is not an insult. Naru simply means red, like the color of your hair. I meant no harm in it. I’ll never say it again if that’s what--.”

Terrwyn interrupted him before he said too much. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything. I . . . I like that.”

She smiled up at him and Feredir felt his heart jump slightly. Those eyes, like new spring on a crisp morning would burn into his memory now. How could he ever have been so cruel towards her? She was not just a prisoner. She was a beautiful woman. She was a fiery spirit. His soul ached to see her in pain. Without another thought, he reached down and swooped her up into his arms.

Terrwyn gasped as she was suddenly lifted into the air. “Feredir, what are you doing?” she said nervously as her arms wrapped around his neck.

“You are hurt. I am carrying you to the cart. It’s getting late and we must be on our way. I cannot wait for you to hobble over on your own,” he responded. He was still sweaty and she couldn’t help but notice how the billowy cotton of her sleeve clung to his skin. He held her as if she was weightless in his arms. His masculine scent wafted up to her senses. She could not deny the fact that this was secretly enjoyable.

Feredir placed her easily onto the wagon seat. His eyes fixed on her, capturing her as they did in Master Curuven’s office. She wondered if he knew he was doing this. Of course he knew, she thought. He is an elf. It is part of his elf magic.

“Let me fetch your tools and secure the load, then we’ll be on our way,” he informed her.

Terrwyn merely nodded and watched him walk away. He picked up his discarded shirt and put it back on. As he buttoned it up, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Now she knew he was putting on a show for her. She could have been mad, accused him of falsely seducing her, but she could not. If Feredir wanted to act the part of rescuer, she would gladly be his damsel in distress, at least for this once. After all, the pain she felt in her arms and back was very real. Her muscles felt as if they had liquefied. All she wanted to do was collapse onto her barracks cot and sleep for a week.

* * *

They arrived at the stable and Master Curuven was waiting for them. There he stood, tall and very slim in his long white robes. Terrwyn thought he looked like royalty with his hair braided at the sides. The wind blew the front of his robe open, exposing grey leggings and boots a few shades darker. His face was long and slender just like everything else about him. His platinum hair was as straight as a bowstring and hung to his waist. Curuven was the symbol of ancient elven knowledge. He must have been thousands upon thousands of years old. Terrwyn suddenly realized just how privileged she was to be able to learn anything from him. Her first lesson was kindness and forgiveness, for that was what he gave her even after trying to escape. He still showed his concern as they approached.

“My dear girl, you look as if you’ve been dragged by that wagon, not riding on it,” he called, a worried look on his face.

“She has paid for her crime, Master Curuven. It is my suggestion that she be allowed to rest a few days. Her hands need tending to. They are swollen with blisters,” Feredir answered for her. He stood up and started to reach down to pick her up again, but Terrwyn held up her hand to stop him.

“It’s alright. I can walk. Please.” She was embarrassed to have the Master Healer see her carried like a child. Feredir nodded, but stayed close just in case she started to stumble. He did, however help her down from the cart. She shuffled over to the Healer.

“I’ll not try anything so foolish again, Master Curuven,” she called to him. “You tell the Captain that I have learned my lesson and leave the wood chopping to those who get paid for it.”

Curuven smiled. It was good to see that she still had a sense of humor. He also noticed a prominent change in Feredir. It seemed that keeping him as her guard was the right decision after all. He would notify Captain Glandur just as soon as he was done here. The Captain had been uneasy about his decision. He would be glad to know. “Come my dear. I have a carriage here waiting for you. We’ll get you fixed up in no time. My wife will tend to your wounds and aches. She has been worried for you.” He paused and glanced at Feredir. “And mad at me for allowing all of this.”

Feredir laughed. “I do not wish to be in your boots, Master Curuven.”

“Let this be a lesson to you my young warrior,” the tall Healer jested, then winked. Feredir chuckled quietly and Curuven waved him over. “There’s plenty of room for all three of us.”

“If it is alright with you, I will stay and settle the horse myself. It was quite a heavy load,” Feredir called.

“Very well.” The Healer leapt up into the carriage but stopped before ducking inside. “Oh, and you may have the next couple days to yourself, Feredir. The Lady Terrwyn will be resting in my healing house. Enjoy your reprieve.”

Feredir bowed, hand over heart to Curuven before going about his business. The Healer entered the carriage and they were off to his office.

* * *

Master Curuven carefully led Terrwyn into the healing ward of his office. There were three separate rooms for his patients where he could personally watch over and take care of them. Most injured ended up at the main healing house where nursemaids took care of them. Terrwyn felt a little uneasy taking up one of his special rooms. “Shouldn’t you save these spots for the more gravely injured?” she asked worriedly.

“Nonsense,” he argued. “You are my assistant and have first priority. You know, it was very busy here today. My wife had to help with the patients, and she was none too happy about it. Said she was missing out on her writing time and that makes her very testy.”

Terrwyn laughed at the comical way he put it. She wondered why he whispered the last part when she heard a beautiful womanly voice call from the back. “Is my husband exaggerating again?”

From around the corner emerged a most wondrous creature. She was every bit as tall as Curuven, slim and long just the same. She had long dark hair, white creamy skin, and wore a floor length white gown made of some silky light material that made her look ethereal. She seemed to glow and the healing room actually lit up as she entered it. On her head, she wore a lacy scarf with pearls sewn around the edge. Her eyes were icy blue set over high cheekbones. Terrwyn could not help but stare. She looked like a queen, not a healer’s wife.

The elleth floated, not walked into the room and her sweet eyes and smile instantly turned to that of concern. “You look exhausted, my child.” She shot her husband a cold glare. “This is uncalled for. You know this, Hervenn. Have we lived amongst men for so long that we are beginning to behave just as brutishly?”

Terrwyn did not want to see the elleth upset and spoke up. “No one did this but me, my lady. I’m afraid I was trying to prove a point and might have taken things a little too far. I knew better than to work myself to exhaustion, but I did so anyways. Master Curuven was only following orders by the Captain of the Guard, and so was Feredir.”

The fair elf raised an eyebrow. “Feredir is your guard? Now I understand why you worked your fingers to the bone. Quite assuming that young ellon can be.” Then she leaned down close to Terrwyn’s ear. “And quite handsome wouldn’t you say?” She stood back up and giggled as she watched a pink tinge spread across Terrwyn’s face and neck. 

Just then, Curuven appeared at her side, smiling and ignoring his wife’s foul mood. “You’ll have to excuse my wife’s comments. She is part Noldor.” He leaned towards the elleth and sensually kissed her cheek. She gladly offered it to him. “But I married her anyways,” he laughed. He took her hand, raised it to his lips and whispered something elvish before he kissed it. Then he looked at Terrwyn, who was sitting on the edge of her bed. “I would like you to meet my hervess, my lovely wife, Limil.”

“It is very nice to meet you my lady. I’m sorry to stare, but you seem so surreal. Your beauty is unmatched to any elf I have met,” Terrwyn said, her eyes as wide as saucers.

Limil gave her a sweet motherly smile and brushed the hair from the young woman’s face. “We’ll have you fixed up in no time and resting peacefully, my child. Now let’s get you into a warm bath and some comfortable bed clothes so that you may relax and heal.” The elleth turned to her husband.

“It is already done, my sweet. I will let you show her to the bathing room and tend to her,” Master Curuven said. He bowed to Terrwyn and smiled. “I will come and check on you when you are finished. You are in good hands with Limil.”

“Thank you Master Curuven. You are both too kind,” Terrwyn answered and yawned.

* * *

Terrwyn finished with her warm bath. Eucalyptus leaves were added for her sore muscles. Lavender scented oil sat on a table, which she dabbed on here and there. This would help her sleep. A very pretty yellow nightgown hung on the back of a chair. It was soft and silky and slid easily over her skin. It had been a very long time since she soaked in a tub, or wore something so soft. Since coming to Ithilien, Terrwyn had only taken sponge baths and worn stiff cotton bed garments. Still, someone kept her chest stocked with soft towels for drying and flowery soaps. She still wondered who left these few luxuries for her. She thought for sure it was Master Curuven, but when she asked him about it, he said it was not him. It was just one of those little mysteries that made life here more interesting.

She came out of the bathing room to find Limil waiting to help her back to the bedroom. The elleth helped Terrwyn into the bed and made sure she was comfortable. She sat up, resting her back against the headboard. Limil handed her a cup. “Here, drink this. It will ease your pain and help you sleep soundly. You will not stir until morning, I promise you that.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Terrwyn said reaching for the offered cup.

“Please, call me Limil. We use no titles around here. My husband only does it because it makes him feel important,” she teased.

Terrwyn could feel the love these two shared. She longed to find that kind of love of her own one day, if she lived that long.

Limil seemed to hear her thoughts. “You are very troubled. I can feel it. I know why you are here and I find it preposterous, these accusations against you. I may not seem like it to you, but I have lived long enough to see many generations of men. They can be very pig-headed and only see what they want to see. I feel for you, child. Trust that the elves here are doing what we can to help you prove your innocence. The Captain’s scouts are returning from Rohan within the week. Hopefully they will have some information.”

“You are too kind, Limil, but I’m not sure what they will find, if they find anything at all. The fact is I did kill someone, but it was in self-defense. Unfortunately, the only witnesses to the crime are the dead man’s companions. They will continue to lie just to save their own skins. All evidence points to me and makes me look guilty of theft and murder. It just feels so hopeless.” Terrwyn finished drinking her tea. Her eyelids became very heavy and she slowly settled in until she was lying down. She tried to keep talking to Limil, telling her story, but the elleth shushed her.

“Sleep now and give this no more thought. Dream of happier times and rest,” Limil whispered while petting Terrwyn’s red head. In an instant, she was fast asleep, letting her dreams carry her away.


	27. In Dreams

It was late in the night and Terrwyn was in a deep sleep brought on by the heavily medicated tea that Limil brought her. Dreams ran rampant changing rapidly until she was in a lush green forest. She felt her body and her mind slow way down. This place was the same as the dream she’d had back in Halfirien. Thick ferns covered the forest floor. The smell of moss was unmistakably familiar. The air was heavy with moisture, as if she could cut it with a knife. The tree canopy grew so close that barely any sunlight made it to the ground. She felt very comfortable here and even more so when she felt a presence close to her. Her heart leapt wildly and she laughed. Someone special was here. She climbed the nearest tree as if she’d done it a thousand times already. There was nothing more relaxing than the feel of climbing and jumping from tree to tree. In this environment, she was free of all inhibitions. She was invincible, able to be herself, though she did not recognize this new woman. She was very different from the young Rohirrim that grew up on the open plains. This girl, her new self, felt as though she remembered the trees, knew them by look and by feel. It was a very odd, but very native sensation.

In her dream, Terrwyn was laughing and trying to keep far enough ahead of this other presence, but she wanted to be captured by him. He was familiar to her, trusting, loving. She stopped on a rather large tree limb only for a moment while she caught her breath, and a pair of strong arms grabbed her. Someone pulled her close to their chest and breathed heavily on her neck. His warm breath sent shivers down her spine and an ache began to grow deep within her core. She recognized his scent, leaves and moss and . . . cheap wine? Where did that come from? The arms around her waist tightened and she found she could not breathe. The one she waited for was no longer there, replaced by someone threatening.

“Let me go,” she cried out in fear.

A familiar man’s voice laughed. “Oh, I am not done with you yet.”

“No!” she screamed. It was him. It was Bregmund. But it couldn’t be. He was dead. She had seen to it that night in the stables.

He laughed again and his rotten breath filled her head with fear. “Too bad it was not you who was kidnapped, then he would be living your wonderful life,” he growled as he pointed to the forest floor.

Terrwyn looked down and saw her brother Hathmund, still a child, being dragged away by a group of Southrons. “Hathmund, no!” she yelled, but it was as if her voice would not carry to the forest floor. She struggled in her attackers arms. “Please let me go. He needs me. He needs my help.”

“No help will come to him and he will die. But you, Terrwyn, you will live. Everyone you have ever loved is gone, but you are still here. Why? What makes you so much better that you are allowed to live while the rest of your family lies rotting in the ground?” Bregmund’s voice was harsh.

“No. No, let me go. I have to save him. I have to go after him. Please, before it is too late,” she pleaded with her captor. He just laughed and tightened his grip until she felt she would suffocate and pass out. Terrwyn continued to beg, calling for Hathmund in between pleas. Her world began to go dark. Bregmund was squeezing the life right out of her. The dream slowly disappeared, darkness taking its place.

Then, just as she thought her life was through, she heard another familiar voice. Someone was calling her, worried and anxious.

“Terrwyn. Terrwyn, wake up,” he said.

She tried to call for help, but she could not breathe. She felt her body lift from the bed and suddenly she gasped taking in as much oxygen as she could. Someone was still calling her name. She opened her eyes just a crack. Black hair, silver eyes and a look of concern, it was her guard.

“Feredir,” she whispered. Then she started to come out of her deep sleep. “Help me Feredir. I have to find my brother. He was just here.”

“There is no one here, Naru. It is only you and I,” he calmly said.

Terrwyn shook her head, still half in a daze. “No, no I saw him. I saw him just moments ago.” Her voice was becoming louder as she was about to go into a fit of hysterics.

“No, Terrwyn,” the elf said sternly. “It was naught but a dream.”

She calmed herself and realized he was right. She looked around her. This was the patients healing room. She was in Ithilien, recovering. It was all a dream. Tears filled her eyes and she could hold back her emotions no longer. Feredir pulled her up into his arms and held her against his chest as he sat on the edge of her bed. She was crying so hard, he didn’t know how to calm her again. He rocked back and forth, shushing her and whispering soothing elvish words in her ear. She wrapped her arms around his strong body and buried her face in his neck. The elf kissed the top of her head, then her forehead. She lifted her face to his and looked deep into his mesmerizing gaze. Filled with despair for her past and safety in his arms, her emotions jumbled together. Why her heart raced at a time like this, she did not know, but she didn’t want it to go away either.

Feredir captured her stare. She looked so lost right now, so pitiful, so helpless, so . . . beautiful. His elvish heart wanted nothing but to comfort her, take away her pain. He leaned closer, never taking his eyes from her. Terrwyn leaned into him, mimicking his moves. Tears stained her cheeks and he wiped them away with his thumbs before cupping her face in his hands. Before he knew it, his lips were gently brushing against hers, so soft and supple. Sweet bliss it was to taste her again. He expected her to pull away, but was answered by the feel of hands reaching into his thick mane. He kissed her, only lips upon lips coming together and parting several times. Each time they touched, his blood pulsed faster through his veins and he wanted her. Feredir needed her like no one else he’d known. It was not just a need for release, it was a need to comfort, to protect, to satisfy another and take nothing for himself.

Terrwyn allowed his kisses to take her away from this despair. His mouth covered hers as he deepened the kiss, full lips so sensuous, soft but masculine. They would ravage her if she allowed it, but it was more than that. She could almost hear his thoughts, wanting to take away her pain and sadness. He hadn’t known what else to do to calm her from her hysterical sobbing. She could sense him telling her that he was here to keep her safe from these evil dreams. This was his world and she desperately wanted to be a part of it.

Terrwyn answered him by offering her tongue up for reward. She wanted to taste him, drawn back to that sense of ferns and moss. Feredir moaned and drew her tongue into his mouth. Dancing and darting together, their senses came alive, bodies aching with need as their tongues flicked wildly together.

Too soon for her liking, Feredir pulled away from her, his lips still parted and swollen. Terrwyn brought her hand up and touched them with her delicate fingers. Gods, he was magnificent and she wanted him. She wanted to feel his weight upon her once more, hips gyrating against her own. She wanted him inside her, thrusting and pulsing within her body. For some reason he had stopped, but this would not do. Terrwyn was still in his arms and leaned into his chest again, burying her face in his neck, nipping at his skin, smelling his elvish masculine scent, remembering that hidden strength she’d felt before, wanting him to take her completely. Her mouth traveled to his ear, sucking the lobe between her teeth then running her tongue along the outer edge to that unusual tip. He tasted wonderful and moaned to her ministrations. Hearing his voice made her body slick beneath her nightgown. She moved so that she was lying back on the bed and brought him with her as she did. There was nothing more satisfying than having him on top, covering her body.

Feredir looked down upon her fair face, red hair spread across her pillow. His own hair hung down around them like a curtain of midnight black. She looked back at him longingly, green eyes sparkling and smiling up at him. By the gods, he wanted her. His eyes traveled down to her heaving chest. The thin material of her nightgown contoured the shape of her breasts. Her pebble hard nipples protruded through the silky fabric. He wanted to take them in his teeth, suck her tits into his mouth. He wanted to push them together and slide his elfhood between them while feeling her nipples harden against the palms of his hands and then--.

No, no this was not right, his mind screamed. This was not what he wanted. Terrwyn was not just another woman to add to his list. She was not just another affair. This beautiful young Rohirrim was much more than that. She deserved more than just a meaningless screwing. He could not give this to her now. His body only wanted release, to fuck someone just for the sake of fucking.

“Terrwyn,” he whispered desperately. “I . . . I can’t.”

“I want this, Feredir,” she confided.

“Not like this.” He had to force the words from his throat. The human half of him only wanted to wet his cock. The elvish half wanted to worship her. It was a cruel conflict, one he hadn’t dealt with much in the past. Feredir was a master of seduction. He could balance the two halves of his personality so that he was satisfying his cravings without hurting his lover’s heart in the process. Terrwyn brought out something animalistic in his human side, but something gentle and searching for love in his elvish side. The two halves clashed and would not compromise.

He pushed himself off her. “I cannot, Terrwyn.”

She felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. She thought he wanted her. She thought he might even have feelings for her. Now he turned away and would not even look at her. Confusion and then anger bubbled beneath the surface of her emotions. “Why are you here then? Why did you come? Why do you seduce me with your foreign words, your kisses, your . . . your--.”

Before he could explain, Feredir heard a muffled voice outside of her room. He gasped and quickly got off her, standing next to her bed. Terrwyn had obviously been too upset to have heard the disturbance in the hallway. She narrowed her eyes. “Get out,” she hissed as the door slowly opened. “Get out of here now!”

“What is going on in here?” said Master Curuven from the door. “Feredir, is that you?”

“Yes, I was checking to see if she was resting well.” It was not a lie. That was the reason he was in her room in the first place. It just so happened that she began to stir and cry out in her sleep. He looked back at Terrwyn who was confused and angry.

Terrwyn did not want Curuven to know what had just occurred and went along with Feredir’s statement. “I was having a bad dream. Feredir woke me is all.” As she spoke, she glared at the elf. “I am fine now. He was just on his way.”

Curuven watched the two for a moment. There seemed to be a sense of tension between them and he wondered what really happened. “I will bring you more tea if it will help you--.”

“I would prefer not to take any more of that medicine, Master Healer,” Terrwyn interrupted. “I am not in so much pain that I cannot fall back to sleep.”

“Very well then,” Curuven said from the door. “We will let you rest.” He gestured for Feredir to follow him.

Feredir walked to the door. Just before closing it, he looked back to Terrwyn. “Good night, my lady.” His voice sounded forlorn.

* * *

Over the next few days, Terrwyn made a full recovery, though her hands were still sore with healing blisters. She tried to help around Curuven’s office, filing papers and checking on patients in the waiting room, but the Master Healer always shooed her away saying she needed to rest.

“I cannot rest anymore, Master Curuven. I am not content to just sit around and do nothing,” she complained.

Curuven looked her over carefully. “Well, I have been given permission to allow you to begin your training again. The Captain agrees that you have served your punishment. Maybe I will send you into town to collect a few supplies for me. How would that be?” he smiled.

“Oh yes, please. I would love the walk to town and back.” She glanced over her shoulder to where Feredir sat in his usual spot, at the small table in the workroom. They had not spoken to each other since that night in her room. Terrwyn was upset with him for letting things get that far and then refusing her. In her mind, she felt used. She had wanted him, was willing to give herself to him and he backed away as if she was diseased. Why did he get her all worked up like that if he had no intention of seeing it through? Then, a part of her knew she was being childish. She should not have let things get so far herself. She should have been the one to stop, but she couldn’t. She wanted him too badly. Her emotions were all in a mess having had that terrible nightmare.

“Feredir,” called Curuven. “I need you to escort Terrwyn into town to run a few errands for me.”

Feredir got up from the table and bowed his head in respect. “Yes, Master Healer.”

They each gathered a few personal belongings and soon were on their way. They walked silently, Terrwyn in front and Feredir following behind in their usual manner of guard and ward. Terrwyn had to do something. The tension between them felt wrong and she knew it was her fault. She found her courage and spoke. “Is there some rule that says you cannot walk beside your charge?”

Feredir was surprised to hear her speak. “No, I just thought you would prefer that I did not walk so close to you.”

Terrwyn slowed until he caught up to her. Then they walked side by side up the cobblestone road. Why was she finding it so difficult to speak to him? The matter of relationships was still new to her, being Rosloch was the only real companionship she’d had with a man. Feredir was part elf also and she did not know how his kind reacted in such situations.

She heard Feredir sigh and then his hand grasped her arm, making her stop. “Terrwyn, I must apologize for my unnecessary actions the other night.”

Her heart skipped a beat as he mentioned the night in question. So, he had felt something too and it was not just her that reacted. “No Feredir, it is my fault also. I should not have sought comfort from you.”

“I was glad you did,” he whispered. “But you were under the influence of Limil’s tea. I know what kind of concoctions she makes and you were not yourself I am sure.”

Terrwyn was very sure she was herself, but this would be a good excuse to say otherwise. “Yes, it was likely the tea.”

Feredir looked to the ground, the corners of his lips upturned slightly into a smile. “I think we have started a kind of friendship between us, and I would not want to harm or take advantage of that. I would like to start over if we can. We have not exactly been the most civil to each other.”

Terrwyn laughed “That is putting it mildly don’t you think?” She was amazed at how much he had changed recently, from pompous guard to someone more caring. “I think I would like that Feredir.”

They started on their way again, walking side by side in silence for a while. Terrwyn smiled shyly. “I like seeing your elvish qualities much more than your human side.”

Feredir laughed. “I sometimes forget they are there.” He looked around at the trees growing to the sides of the road. “I must admit, living in Gondor has made me feel more human. I do miss the forests of my home. They are so thick and lush, much more dense than here in Ithilien.”

“Funny you should mention it. That is exactly how I see a forest in my dreams. The colors and the smells are so vivid that I feel I am actually there,” she reminisced. 

Feredir furrowed his brow. “The dream you had last night, you sounded like you were in danger.”

Terrwyn remembered the feel of Bregmund’s grip on her. It was very much the same as when it really happened. “I have . . . memories,” she gave as her short answer. Having to recall that dreadful night in the stables made her very nervous. She needed to change the subject. Feredir did not need to know about that part of her life. “So you say Mirkwood is like that of my dreams?”

He knew she would falter from the subject at hand and so he followed her lead. “You describe it exactly. Have you ever been there?”

“No,” she shook her head. “No, but I once met an elf from your home. I was just a child then . . . at Helm’s Deep.” Suddenly it occurred to her that Feredir would have been a warrior during that time. She gasped and asked excitedly. “Were you there? Did you fight for Rohan?”

“I’m afraid not. I stayed in Mirkwood by orders from my King. Only a small select group was sent to the Deep,” he answered. He hadn’t given much thought to her childhood and where she fell into that timeline. “How old were you then?”

“I was six. Hathmund was nine. My father was already dead by that time, taken by the enemy in the Westfold. My mother was in despair and not herself. Hathmund took care of me during that time.” She got a faraway look in her eyes. “Mother was in one of her many depressions and Hathmund did not want me to see, but I knew. She did not sing to me anymore. She did not hold me in her arms. She would just sit there and cry or hold her head in her hands.”

“It is not easy to lose a loved one,” Feredir commented, thinking of his own experiences.

“No, it is not,” Terrwyn continued. “That is why we were playing on the veranda. We wanted sunshine and fresh air, but what we got was thick looming clouds and the stench of nasty bogs. Later I learned that the foulness in the air was that of approaching orcs who would appear later that night. We ignored it, of course.” She suddenly smiled and looked at Feredir with bright green eyes. “I found my sunshine though, in the form of an elf. Oh he was so beautiful. I can’t explain it, but everything about him spoke of love and joy even in those dark times. He was singing a bewitching tune and I could not help but be drawn to him. He was magical,” she said dreamily. “We talked to him, Hathmund and I. He gave us words of hope and encouragement. Then he gave my brother an elvish knife and me, a little wooden butterfly. He said I was like that butterfly.”

As she continued on, Feredir watched the joy disappear from her eyes. “You seem as though something happened.”

“I loved that butterfly, took it everywhere with me. I would hold it and stroke it, make wishes upon its wings that I would one day meet and live amongst other elves like him.” Terrwyn stopped walking and hung her head. “I lost it though.” She proceeded to tell him about her adventures with Rosloch as they traveled from Firien Wood to Minas Tirith. She explained in detail where exactly she was when she lost her beloved trinket. Feredir made mental notes of every bush, every tree as she recalled her story. He could see how special this was to her, how important it was.

“Did you ever find out who this elf was?” he asked.

Terrwyn shook her head. “No, I never saw him again. I hope he did not perish in the war,” she smiled. “But something tells me just laughed as the orcs attacked him. He was such a free spirit, everything I imagine the elves to be.”

Her comments reminded him that he was only half-elvish, something he tried very hard to overcome. Feredir had always wished he was a full blooded elf. It was because of this that he had a difficult time growing up in Mirkwood, why he strived so hard to be the best now. He always felt the need to prove that he was just as much an elf as all the others, despite his Gondorian blood. He felt that again now as he watched Terrwyn speak of this Mirkwood warrior from her past. Even she did not see him as an elf, but as some half breed. He needed to prove her wrong. He wanted her to see him as she saw this elf from her childhood. He wanted to be her hero.


	28. Cooks and Books

It had been a week or so since Terrwyn recovered and got back to helping Master Curuven. She and Feredir were on better terms now. Surprisingly, the elf was making an effort to be more than a guard, a friend even. She was glad for this, but still wanted more than friendship from him. He was still aloof at times, unreachable at others. Terrwyn had a hard time figuring him out. It was as if he was trying to hide something and she knew she hadn’t seen the real elf yet.

She found it entertaining the way Feredir avoided any conversation about what happened in her healing room. If there was one thing for sure, it was that he was very confident in the bedroom. She’d felt that as he kissed her, as he hardened against her, but he had stopped at a most inopportune time. Terrwyn tried to stay angry with him, but he was obviously upset with himself over the whole ordeal. Other women would have known his touches by now, she was sure. The way he made her come alive that night was enough to sway her to become his next affair, but he hadn’t wanted it that way. What did he want, she wondered. Maybe nothing. It was a unique situation. Terrwyn was a so-called prisoner, though she felt more like a protected guest. The elves had a strange idea about incarceration. Feredir was her guard. It was highly probable that this kind of behavior was frowned upon between the two, a conflict of interest. Whatever it was, Terrwyn would wait and let it play itself out. She would not become optimistic. It was very likely that Feredir saw all of this as a mistake and nothing would come of it. Besides, there were other things to worry about, one being that the winter was ending soon. Her time in Ithilien was likely to end in a month or so, depending on when the weather would cooperate. Her kinsmen would come for her before too long and take her back to Rohan, back to reality, back to possible death.

* * *

Captain Glandur called Feredir to his office for an early morning meeting. He had something urgent that needed careful attention and he chose Feredir to carry out his orders. “I have received word that our scouts are returning from Rohan. They have collected information that may or may not be useful to Terrwyn’s tribunal. I need someone fast and savvy to head out, meet them and return their message to the city. I don’t need to remind you how dangerous it is out near that area. The Great West Road is constantly watched.” Glandur came around from behind his desk and laid a hand on Feredir’s shoulder. “Prove to me that you can follow orders and I will reenlist you to your troops.”

Feredir’s eyes widened. “You will allow me to return to the border?” he asked apprehensively.

“You have proven yourself to me lately. You have taken care of your ward with very few mishaps. I am allowing you another chance, but I need you to hurry.” Glandur said. He grasped forearms with the young warrior and looked him square in the eyes. “There is no one I trust more or have more confidence in, Feredir.”

The dark haired elf took a step back and bowed to Glandur. “I will not disappoint you, Captain.”

“I hope not,” answered Glandur. “You may escort Terrwyn to Master Curuven and then be on your way.”

Terrwyn. He had not thought of her in all of this. Now he wondered who would look out for her while he was gone. “Um Captain, if you don’t mind my asking, what will happen to her while I am running this errand?”

Glandur looked at him curiously. Was that concern he heard in his tone? “I thought you might like a reprieve from your ward, a few days away from the prisoner and the city.”

Feredir straightened up and hardened his face. “Yes, of course, Captain. And I very much look forward to resuming my duties with my battalion.”

Glandur said nothing, observing Feredir. A small spark in his eyes told the Captain that the young elf had developed personal feelings for Terrwyn. She was no longer just his charge and he had real concern for her welfare. “You needn’t worry for her. I have decided to have her stay with the Master Healer and his wife. I no longer feel she is a flight risk and I’m sure she is anxious to learn as much as possible with what little time she has left in Ithilien.” Glandur cocked an eyebrow questioningly at the handsome young elf. “She has become rather . . . special to you, has she not?”

“Permission to speak freely, Captain?” Feredir requested.

“Granted,” Glandur answered and gestured for Feredir to have a seat, which he did. The Captain perched himself on the corner of his large oak desk.

“I admit, we have developed a sort of closeness and I worry for her, worry for what will happen to her. I do not believe she deserves any of the things that have happened to her and I would do anything to prove her innocence. If there is something in this letter that will help exonerate Terrwyn, then I will gladly be the one to deliver it safely to your hands.” Feredir spoke in a voice that Glandur had never heard before. Gone was the over confident youth. He had grown during this time as a prison guard. The Captain felt a bit of relief for he had always doubted his original decision to take Feredir away from the border. Activity there had increased and this was his best soldier. Now he knew he made the right decision and Feredir would return confident, but more mature, ready to fight with a new purpose.

“You needn’t worry for her. She will be safe. You know that. And if there is anything in this new information from Rohan that will help her, I will let you know first,” Glandur said and smiled. “She has become special to all of us. The elves would not see an innocent person harmed, which is why we are doing what we can to collect as much information. We have to be careful though. The last thing we want is to hurt our relationship with our allies. “

“Understood, Captain,” Feredir answered respectfully. He dared to let the corners of his mouth upturn into a slight smile. “It will do my heart good to know she will be in a place of comfort with Master Curuven. The women’s barracks are not the most pleasant place, but she has been a trooper and not complained once. I just thank Eru for whoever has given her the small comforts she has.”

“Small comforts?” the tall golden Captain asked inquisitively.

“Fresh soaps and oils, feminine things to help make her more comfortable and a borrowed book every now and then,” Feredir answered.

“Ah, I see.” Glandur looked over his shoulder to a small book on his desk, a book of poems . . . a gift from his lover and bond mate. It went missing for a while and magically appeared back on his desk one day. Antien, he thought to himself. He must have given Terrwyn the book to read. He must also be the one leaving these ‘small comforts’ in the girl’s barracks. Of course, he would do this. He had always been the caring type, which is why Glandur loved him. “Well, it is nice to know she is being watched over,” he said with a loving smile in his eyes. Then he cleared his personal thoughts to regain his military façade once again. “You had better be on your way then. Terrwyn will be waiting and you have a long journey ahead of you.”

“Good day, Captain,” Feredir said, respectfully bowing before he left.

* * *

“I have to leave for a few days,” Feredir informed Terrwyn as they walked along the path to Master Curuven’s home.

“Leave? But where are you going?” she asked. Not once since becoming her guard did Feredir have any errands to run. “Are you being sent back to the borders?”

“Not just yet. No, I have a mission I must complete for the Captain. That is all you need to know.” He was walking particularly fast and that made Terrwyn have to run to keep up with him.

She had become rather fond of having him around and did not want him to go. However, he had a job to do. She could not interfere with that and she couldn’t tell him that she would miss him while he was gone. Feredir had shown no sign of interest except that of friendship and far be it from her to mess that up. He was still a warrior and she had known deep down that he would go back to his former life. “Will you return? I mean, as my guard?”

Feredir slowed his steps to let her catch up. “I thought you didn’t like having me as your guard,” he teased, smiling.

“Well no, not at first, but . . . but I have grown rather accustomed to having you around. Besides, I do not think there is another guard that could handle having me as their charge,” she joked.

“There is no doubt, Naru,” he laughed. “You will be glad to know there will be no other guard to take my place. Captain Glandur is allowing you to stay with Master Curuven and Limil. They will take care of you and give you some well needed comforts.”

Terrwyn wanted badly to tell the alluring elf that he was all the comfort she needed, but that would not do. Instead, she smiled a tad disappointedly. “That is very generous of them and I look forward to it.”

Soon they were at Curuven’s home and office. The Master Healer had already been informed of the situation at hand and greeted Terrwyn with open arms. Limil was at his side and just as glad to see her. They invited Feredir in, but he refused saying he must be on his way. He looked to Terrwyn and took her hand. “Behave yourself, Naru. You have been given a unique opportunity.”

“I will,” she smiled up into his enchanting eyes. “I--.” Terrwyn stopped. She wanted to tell him she would miss him and would be hanging on the edge of her chair waiting for him to return, but she couldn’t. “Stay safe.”

Feredir smiled warmly and backed away, but his hand remained connected to hers until they were too far apart to touch and the tips of their fingers separated. He nodded, turned and ran off in the direction of the stables.

Curuven and Limil glanced at each other with a knowing look. Limil wrapped her arm around Terrwyn’s shoulders and turned her towards the open door. “Come dear, let me show you to your very own room. I do hope you will be comfortable here.” With that, they disappeared into the Master Healer’s office and up a flight of stairs.

The second floor was their home, had been for a good many years. There was a small gathering area at the top of the stairs with a couch, two large winged back chairs and a small fireplace. To the left was an open doorway that led to a great room, probably used for entertaining, she thought. Straight ahead was a hall. On the left, there looked to be two doors, presumably bedrooms or maybe a bathing room. To the right was another open doorway that led into a very large kitchen. Terrwyn was surprised at how much space it took up in their small second floor apartment. It was big enough that their dining area was situated inside the same room. There was also a work area in one corner, opposite of the dining table. She wondered how many conversations went on at this rustic simple wooden bench while vegetables were being prepared or meats cut up. It was obvious that this room was the real gathering place for close friends and possibly family. It had such charm and charisma. Terrwyn felt relief wash over her. She would be very happy to stay with Curuven and Limil.

Past the kitchen, down to the very end of the hall was small table holding a very beautiful vase. It had the most unique design on it, more like a picture than a design. There was a forest painted in dark green that blended into a bright flowery garden, which flowed into a harbor of some kind with a tall sailboat. Its sails billowed in an invisible wind. Seagulls circled above its tallest mast and the sun seemed to be touching the water in the background. Terrwyn thought it was very odd for a vase and that it should have been painted on canvas, like a story needing to be told.

“This is very old,” Limil said as she came up to stand beside Terrwyn.

“I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it before,” the young woman remarked.

“I don’t suppose you have or ever will. It is one of a kind. It is a fortune vase, painted by a seer. It is a token to Curuven and I. The soothsayer named it Past, Present and Future. It indicates where we were, where we are and where we will be.”

Terrwyn looked at it with amazement. “It is very eccentrically beautiful.”

Limil pointed to a door to the right. “This will be your room while you are here.” Then she gestured to the left. “This is my very special room. Come let me show it to you.”

Limil opened the door and inside was a small library. The walls were basically bookshelves from floor to ceiling and cram packed with books of all sizes and colors. Only one wall was not covered in books. It housed a tall window with an ornate wooden writing desk. The legs looked like tree trunks. The edges were carved to look like branches and leaves. The desktop had a beautiful vining design, carved into the wood and then filled with silver. It was very smooth for writing on, but the details were magnificent. At the back of the desk were slots and drawers, all carved with the same tree design, no sharp corners or abrupt stops. Everything about it was very flowing, just like anything elvish in nature, endless. The wood itself was white, white oak Terrwyn thought to herself. It was one of the hardest woods and would last for an eternity no doubt.

“This is my writing room. I have spent many hours here coming up with new stories, telling tales of the ancient beings and beasts. It is my second great love,” Limil blushed slightly, but hardly noticeable, “Curuven being my first.”

“He told me briefly of how you met,” Terrwyn said.

“Ah,” Limil laughed. “Berries and a great boar, the worst experience of the best day of my life. Yes, Curuven is rather proud to tell our story. Our life has been a great inspiration for many of my tales.”

“I did not know you were a writer. Were you a scribe? Was that your career?” Terrwyn asked. She was completely enthralled with Limil.

“Oh heavens no, I was a cook. I followed in my mother’s footsteps. She was a cook for some of the great legends of Valinor and when she made the journey to Middle-earth with the other Noldor, she kept them alive with her skills. If it was edible, she knew how to prepare it. Food was very scarce during that time, but she knew what to look for and with the help of their hunters, she was able to keep their elvish bellies full enough to survive.”

Terrwyn gasped. “Your mother is one of the ancient Noldor from Valinor? Oh, what an honor it is to be in the presence of one so fair. In Rohan, these were merely tales and children stories. You’ll have to excuse me, but it is like hearing a fairy tale and finding out that the characters really existed.” Her eyes widened. “Then that must mean that you are very old too.”

Limil laughed aloud. “Oh my dear, well . . . old is not the word I would have used, but yes. I have been alive for many thousands of years.”

“You should be a queen,” Terrwyn said amazed.

“Oh good heavens, no. I would not wish that upon my worst enemy. No, I am quite happy being a Healers wife.” Limil went to a shelf and pulled down a very old book. It was bound in faded red leather and the pages were yellowed, but it was still in very good condition. “Here, read this in your spare time. It is the story of my mother and how she came to meet my father. I think you will find it very interesting.”

Terrwyn opened it up to the first few pages and was disappointed to see the ancient elvish runes. “Oh, I am sorry, but I cannot read elvish.”

Limil flipped to the center of the book. “Start here. It is written in the common language, another project of mine, translating all of my earlier works.”

Terrwyn smiled. “Thank you, Limil. I will take great care of it and look forward to reading.”

After that, Limil showed Terrwyn to her room. It was quaint and cozy. There was a soft bed, a dresser and mirror, wardrobe closet, and a basin and jug for washing up. There was also a window that looked out onto an herb garden down below. Terrwyn knew it well. She had collected herbs for Master Curuven, but hadn’t realized that the upstairs windows were part of their home. Now she understood the complete layout of this building and its small backyard. This was not only Curuven’s office and lab; it was also their home, probably the last place they would live until they sailed. It finally dawned on her just how lucky she was to be able to share in the lives of these two elves. For sure, they had seen many changes, wars and times of peace, the uprising of evil and its destruction. And all the while, they had each other. What a wondrous journey it must be for them so far.

Limil left Terrwyn to let her become accustomed to her temporary home. Terrwyn sat down on the edge of her bed and cracked open the ancient book, but instead of reading it, she observed the beauty of the elvish language. She swore to learn something of it. There was an underlying need to know what these runes meant, a kind of connection to anything elvish. This was something that was always prodding at the back of her mind. Why she had always felt this way, she did not know, but the thirst for knowledge was always there. Limil had allowed her access to an unlimited amount of information. If only she had longer to soak it all in and discover what it was that drew her to the elves.


	29. Found

Feredir rode hard over the lands trying to get to his rendezvous point and meet the elf scouts to retrieve this letter for Captain Glandur. It would take him another day to get to the meeting place. Then he would make a secret camp and wait for the scouts to arrive. As he traveled, his mind often wandered to Terrwyn. He had tried his best to keep distance between them. He wanted her, yes, but not in the way he would normally want a woman. He needed to woo her, impress her, show her he was not the arrogant uncaring guard who let her work her fingers to the bone. The fact that she was a prisoner made matters even more difficult. She would be leaving soon and her future was unclear. Should he really be entertaining the idea of a relationship with her in the first place? He should have never let his feelings get in the way of his job. If he had only followed orders to begin with, Feredir may have never even met the red haired Rohirrim. He would still be out on the borders doing what he loved best. This was another factor that made things difficult. Captain Glandur was about to release him from punishment and send him back with his troops. This would mean long stays at the border and only occasional reprieve in the city. What did he want more, border guard or Terrwyn? The answer should have been obvious. Terrwyn was temporary, and if this letter proved to be useless, she would be gone in just a matter of weeks. Perhaps he should have just taken her that night in the healing house, satisfied his curiosity and left another woman sated and wondering if he would ever touch her again. Why should he even waste his thoughts and concerns on this?

. . . Because she was worth more than that. Because no other woman had made him feel so alive, inside and out. Because . . . because . . . he had feelings for her. Feredir cringed at the very thought. How was it possible that he had feelings for anyone besides the feelings of desire? Hadn’t he always told himself he did not have time for this kind of situation, that this would interfere with his goals? How could he go on proving himself to the Captain and his other Ithilien brothers when he was smitten with some . . . woman? No, he had to put Terrwyn out of his mind. He had to continue with his path. There was no time to get his heart involved when he was striving to become the best archer since the Prince himself, to come out of Mirkwood. 

It was late when Feredir finally stopped for a short break. He found a place where his horse could get water and he could take rest. A patch of trees would give him enough shelter from prying eyes. So far, he had not met any unwanted attention, but that did not mean someone was not watching. Reports of attacks were becoming more frequent in these parts. The Haradrim were getting braver and attacking just inside the borders of Gondor. Feredir would take his rest, but remain cautious.

He found a sturdy tree with a wide trunk and limbs that stretched out like welcoming arms. It was good to be amongst the trees again. His heart always did lie within them, seeking comfort from their quiet lullabies that only the elves could hear. He leaned back against the trunk, extended his long legs out and crossed his ankles as he settled onto the limb. He leaned his head back against the tree, his long black hair hanging down to his waist, and closed his eyes. Just a short reprieve and he would be on his way again, he thought as a light elvish sleep took him.

* * *

Terrwyn was becoming quite comfortable over the last couple of days. Living with Curuven and Limil was such a joy. She loved to sit back and watch how they interacted with one another. They joked and teased. Occasionally one would irritate the other, but it never lasted and always ended with a kiss. Terrwyn sighed and thought to herself how much she wanted to find this kind of love. What a great comfort it would be to know someone loved her so much that there was no need to worry about tomorrow. No matter what happened, she would know there was always someone there watching over her, loving her, making sure she was happy. It would be Terrwyn’s greatest joy also to be able to return those same qualities.

The young Rohirric had just finished washing and headed down to Master Curuven’s workroom. She heard him talking to his wife. There were reports of activity in an uncommon place, near the road at the entrance to the land of Ithilien. Such invasions usually occurred in areas less protected, or guarded by fewer border guards. To know the Southrons were attacking in populated areas where travelers were more commonly seen made everyone on edge. Curuven thought it best to start making a few batches of medicines just in case there were any wounded. So far he had not received word of any injured, but that did not mean there was none.

Terrwyn had been out in the garden gathering herbs on her list from the Healer. Her mind wandered to Feredir and she hoped he was safe. She knew he could take care of himself, but she worried about him being alone. If attacked, he would have no help. Of course, he would argue that he needed no help, stubborn elf that he was. She missed him, missed his voice and the way he called her Naru. This was silly of her, she thought. Feredir’s mind would be on anything but thoughts of her. He had made it clear in his actions that he was not interested and that whatever transpired between them that night was a mistake. She was distraught. He was comforting her. Things went a little too far. Yes, that was all it was.

Oh, who was she kidding? There was no mistake on her part. She had wanted him. The feelings were too strong to ignore. The way he responded was more than just friendly comforting. Terrwyn was sure he wanted her too, but how much did he want? What did he want? Was it just the desire to know her body or the desire to know her soul? She hoped for the latter. 

Terrwyn finished gathering her herbs and came back into the house to hear Curuven and Limil in a discussion about simmering.

“Of course it does not need to be a rolling boil, my love, but there aren’t any bubbles at all. The heat is not high enough. It will never cook down as you want it to,” Limil suggested sweetly.

“It is steaming and that means it is simmering, my sweet. Who is the healer here?” Curuven asked kindly. Even when they argued, it was with love and kindness in their voices.

Terrwyn giggled and both elves looked up from what they were doing. They smiled at her. “Ah, I see you have finished collecting my herbs,” Curuven said as he went to her and took the basket from her arm. Terrwyn watched as Limil stoked the coals in the stove while Curuven wasn’t looking, making the flames rise to get the pot bubbling. Curuven continued. “We will need all the help we can get this morning, which is why Limil is here instead of writing.” He turned just in time to see her closing the stove’s door. The Healer floated to his wife and kissed her. “You know I do not like to interrupt your private time, sweetness.”

Limil kissed him back. “I know, my love, but I also know how important it is to have enough medicine on hand, just in case it is needed.” She touched his cheek lovingly with the back of her fingers and then walked over to the workbench to help Terrwyn prepare the herbs. The young woman observed Master Curuven open the stove door, take the poker and spread out the coals, diminishing the fire Limil had just raised. Terrwyn giggled again, drawing Limil’s attention to Curuven who was not quick enough in closing the stove door.

“Stubborn elf,” Limil said, but it sounded more like a compliment than an insult. She shook her head and turned back to Terrwyn. “Honestly, you would think I have never cooked anything in my life. I think I know what a simmer is. It matters not if it is herbs for stew or herbs for a remedy.”

Terrwyn smiled. “I think it is sweet how the two of you get along. I dream of the day I meet my forever love.”

“You can be sure that he will be just as stubborn, especially if he is an elf,” Limil commented. She glanced at the woman from the corner of her eye, noticing the sudden stiffness in Terrwyn’s manner. “Do not think that I have not noticed the way you look at Feredir. You are in love with him, aren’t you?”

Terrwyn could feel herself blush. “Feredir?” she said and her voice went a little too high, cracking and giving herself away. Limil simply raised an eyebrow and Terrwyn knew there was no hiding it. “Really, is it that obvious?”

“My dear, you did not even have to look at him and I would have known you loved him. I feel the tension between the two of you when you are in the same room. It is not just one sided either. Feredir has feelings for you also, though he tries very hard to dismiss them. The soul knows what it wants, Terrwyn, especially that of an elf. It matters not that he is only half-elven. There is nothing human about his soul. He will come around eventually and I think this little separation will make him realize just how much he loves you.”

Terrwyn shook her head. “I don’t think it is love he feels. I know what kind of life he has lived. I know he has had many lovers, but none to love. Why should I think he feels any differently about me?”

Limil stopped cleaning leaves from the stems and laid her hand on top of Terrwyn’s drawing the woman’s sight to meet the elleth’s eyes. “I know you cannot see this because you have not yet stopped long enough or looked deep enough, but there is a spark within his astral eyes when he watches you. Feredir has never looked upon anyone in such a manner. I have known him ever since he first came to Curuven as an elfling with a sprained ankle. He had that same spark then, before he realized just how different he was from the rest of his kin. As he grew older and the teasing began, I watched that light dwindle, but since he has met you, it has been rekindled. You give him new hope, new confidence. He has just not stopped long enough to realize it yet. Feredir is very protective of his heart and feelings. He had a difficult upbringing. That is all I will say for it is not my place to discuss it. Just know that being a Peredhil raised in a land where pure heritage is pride made life a struggle for him. Always needing to prove himself worthy of other’s respect has taken its toll and made him who he is today. It is just a front though, Terrwyn. Beneath that hardened exterior and aloofness is a soul needing love and acceptance for who he truly is.”

So that was why Feredir was the way he was, Terrwyn thought to herself as she went back to cleaning herbs. He was constantly teased for being half-elven. It made since now. His black hair alone would be enough to draw attention among all the Mirkwood elves. He could not hide the fact that he was not a full-blooded elf. This must also account for the reason he was always trying to prove himself as a warrior. If he could become the best at what he does, he could earn the respect of all those who doubted him over the years. All of this made Terrwyn wonder about his family. Who were his parents? Which of them was human, which was elf? There was so much more to know about Feredir. He was a mystery, one that she would like to unravel.

* * *

Feredir hadn’t known just how tired he was and let himself fall into a deeper reverie than he would have liked. It was too late though. Dreams took him, dreams of days long gone, of ghosts from his past and people he would no longer see. No, he thought to himself. He did not want to revisit this now. He was haunted by these memories far too often being so close to Minas Tirith. Now he was amongst the trees and wished to dream of home, of lush forests and fern covered grounds. The mind of an elf was strong enough, even in sleep, to force more likeable thoughts to the surface. The dark haired elf concentrated and managed to place himself deep in the forests of Mirkwood. The sights and sounds came flooding back into his memory. How he missed those days when he was free to explore the forbidden areas. After the destruction of Sauron, more young elves like himself overcame their fear and discovered the long forgotten places of the deep forest. They were the daring ones who knew they could walk these areas without fear of spiders. Those days were over and it was time to live life the way their elders could not. This was where Feredir found his unconscious mind now.

He sniffed the thick air and it was familiar to him, but there was a new scent he had not remembered. Roses, he thought and could not remember seeing any. Why would he smell roses here? The canopy above was too thick to allow enough sunlight in to sustain roses, yet he knew that scent. It made his heart pound inside his ribcage. He imagined what color they might have been. Not white or yellow, that scent was too delicate. No, this had a stronger aura about it. Pink? No, not pretty frilly pink, but dusty . . . faded red.

“Naru,” he whispered and suddenly she was standing beside him on the forest floor. Their feet disappeared into the thick close growing ferns. How easy it would be to vanish amongst them.

“Feredir,” she whispered back and cupped her hand to the side of his face.

They spoke no more words and let their actions talk instead. Feredir reached up and took her hand, but she brought it to her breast. He felt her nipple harden against his palm and looked to her once more just to make sure she had given him permission to touch her. He was awarded by her sweet smile and a slight nod. The elf brought his other hand up, covering both breasts and lightly squeezing them. Terrwyn threw her head back and moaned. Feredir’s blood raced through his veins, filling his desire, making him painfully hard beneath his restricted leggings. He watched as her sight fell to his arousal. She smiled and licked her lips, then reached down and stroked him through the material. Nimble hands untied the laces of his leggings and dipped inside. She gasped and bit her bottom lip, smiling devilishly. By the gods, it felt good having her holding him, stroking him. The elf moaned and let go of a breath he had been holding. She stroked him more, her grip tightening and her pace quickening. Feredir wanted to please her too, but found he could not move. Breaking the bond now would mean breaking his train of thought and so he let her please him.

“Oh, Terrwyn,” he finally whispered in her ear. “Terrwyn, I want you. I need you.” He licked her ear along the outer edge. “I love you.”

Feredir’s eyes shot open. What did he just say? Did he say that aloud? Was there anyone around to hear him? He regained his consciousness and realized he was still in the tree out in the middle of nowhere. It was only a dream, but one that felt so real. Then he felt the throbbing pain of his fully erect penis. He had not thought of Terrwyn long and look at the state he was in. He had never been this hard and unable to find relief. A vision of his dream flooded back into his mind and he thought of Terrwyn stroking him. Feredir rubbed his hand over the bulge in his pants. If he did not find relief, he would surely go mad. He closed his eyes and imagined her long red hair covering his thighs. Undoing the laces and folding down the material of his leggings, his arousal sprung free. The vernal elf began stroking himself, all the while imagining it to be Terrwyn. His hand came up to the rim and back down to the top of his hardening sack. He released himself just long enough to spit in his hand. Ah, now it moved more freely over the silky skin. Faster he stroked. It would not take him long to come. Feredir lifted his shirt, exposing the taut muscles of his stomach. His hips bucked slightly, lips parted and teeth glared in the moonlight as he made an animalistic growl and spill his seed, splashing onto his belly. “Oh, Terrwyn,” he said under his breath as her ghostly vision left his mind. Then he realized he had said those three forbidden words and he said them with her in his thoughts. Feredir loved Terrwyn. He loved the way she talked too much when she was nervous. He loved the way her green eyes caught on fire when she was angry. He loved the way she surrendered herself to him that night in the healing room. Everything about her was beautiful. Even when she irritated him, he still wanted her. Yes, he had no choice but to admit this to himself. He wanted her and he loved her. What an odd combination, he thought. For so long he avoided this, but he could not deny it any longer. Terrwyn was special. She stood up to him when he was at his worst. She did not throw herself at him as other women had done. She was her own woman and in charge of as much of her life as was possible in her situation. Now he prayed that there was something in the letter that would help clear her of these charges. He wanted her free, free like the Mearas, free to choose her own path and make her own decisions. He wanted her free to choose him, to love him in return. 

Feredir smiled and cleaned himself off with some of the leaves from the tree. “I am sorry my friend,” he said jokingly to the tree. “But I am sure you have been around long enough to see what drives the elves to such madness. Thank you for your shelter,” he spoke as he reassembled himself. Then he jumped down and mounted his horse. It was time to get to the rendezvous point and get that letter so he could get back to Terrwyn.

* * *

The sun was coming up now and the landscape was becoming more prominent. In just a few hours, he would reach the meeting place and set up camp. Dew glistened on the grass to the side of the dusty road. A light breeze began to blow. It was warmer than usual. Feredir gasped. Spring! It was the first signs of the coming changes in season. Soon the Rohirrim would come for Terrwyn. Feredir felt a twinge of urgency at the thought of watching her escorted off by these men. He was not sure he trusted them alone with her on such a long journey. Now, most men of Rohan were honorable. Feredir had met quite a few and had an utmost respect for them. But as it was with all men, some were less respectable. These were the ones that Feredir worried about now.

As his thoughts rambled on, he looked to his right at the landscape in the distance. Why did it seem familiar to him? He had not been to these parts of Gondor in a very long time. The land would most certainly have changed since then, yet he couldn’t help feel he had seen this area before. Then it dawned on him that he had seen it before, just not through his own eyes. Terrwyn had talked about traveling through here and the attack by the Southrons. The trees, the bushes, it all made perfect sense. She spoke of this place. This was the spot where she lost her most prized possession, the little wooden butterfly.

“Daro!” he commanded his horse and she stopped dead in her tracks. Feredir jumped down and started searching the area. Back in Mirkwood, he had been a tracker and used his skills now. He remembered the layout of the land as Terrwyn had described it. The weather would have erased most evidence but some things would not have changed, for example, the broken branches of the bushes he was observing now. There had been a struggle here. He looked around some more and found ashes of a fire long since put out. She had been sitting by the fire when she heard a noise and saw her escort captured. The broken branches must have been the place where the Haradrim dragged her into the forest. Feredir knew Terrwyn would have fought first. She would have dropped the butterfly before entering the woods. He walked around, moving sand and leaves with his boots. Then he kicked something and it flipped over. There it was as if it had been calling to him, the wooden butterfly. Carefully, he picked it up and held it in his hand. It was very simple, but the design on the wings was unmistakably elvish. Whoever made this had put a lot of thought into it. The edges of the wings were worn and he thought of all the times Terrwyn must have held it in her hand and stroked it, praying for her wishes to be answered. Feredir’s heart beat loudly as he hoped he would be the one to make her wish come true. He had found her little trinket. He could be her hero and maybe she would love him in return.

He wrapped it in a soft piece of cloth and tucked it safely in his saddle pack. Somehow, this seemed much more like precious cargo than the letter he was sent to retrieve and he smiled to himself knowing he would be the messenger. Feredir got back onto his path and headed for the meeting point. He would carry out his mission proudly, deliver the letter to his Captain and find Terrwyn to give her the good news of his findings. Everything seemed to just fall into place now. Everything would work out. How could it not? The signs were all there as if the Valar themselves were standing in front of him. Everything was coming together.


	30. The Injured Traveler

The morning started out like any other. Terrwyn was busy tidying up Master Curuven’s back room, chatting with Limil and getting ready to pick some herbs for the day’s medicinal mixtures when there was a commotion up front in the waiting area. She heard some loud voices speaking elvish in a very distressed manner. The door to the back room flew open and Curuven called both females to come with him. Terrwyn and Limil dropped what they were doing and rushed to join the Master Healer.

The first thing Terrwyn saw was a group of four very worried elves. They all towered above her and she felt very insignificant in the midst of them. There was someone lying on the bed in the healing room, a fifth elf. He was unconscious and deathly pale. His long platinum hair was a tangled mess and sweat beaded upon his forehead. His lips were grey and cracked, as though he had gone for days without water. The other elves were becoming irritated, some yelling, some waving their hands as they told their story of how their friend got in this condition. She couldn’t make out a word of what they were saying, but their accent and the way they spoke told her they were from Mirkwood. None of these elves were dressed like those who lived in Ithilien. No, these elves were visitors, obviously attacked on their way here. Her thoughts instantly went to Feredir. He was somewhere out on the Great Road. If only she could speak elvish so she could ask if these were the elves Feredir was meant to join with. She must have looked extremely concerned for Limil laid a kind hand on her shoulder.

“I know what you are thinking, and this is not them. They say they heard of the recent activity at the gateways and came by another route. They were ambushed by orcs. This one was shot in the leg. The arrow was obviously poisoned and the tip is still buried in his thigh. It happened four days ago, so the poison has had time to spread. We need to remove the rest of the arrowhead and clean that wound, but first we need to make him sleep. If we start to work on him now, he will wake up and he won’t be in a very welcoming mood. His dreams have no doubt been very dark lately. Any more pain introduced to him now would have him become violent.” Limil told her more about orc poison and how it altered the elvish mind. Terrwyn looked down to the injured elf. It was difficult to believe that he could come out of this coma and bring them harm. He looked so weak and pale.

“What do you need me to do then?” Terrwyn asked, ready to help in any way.

“We have to gently sit him up so that Curuven can get him to drink that.” Limil pointed to a small bottle with a pale blue liquid in it. “It will put him in a deep sleep and help curve his dark dreams. The challenge is getting him to drink it. I’m afraid anything we force him to do will be considered a threat. Now, I just need you to take one side and help me hold him up. I will try to speak to him and keep him calm. Can you do this?”

“Of course,” Terrwyn said bravely. She could not stand to see anyone suffer, least of all an elf.

The other elves were asked to leave the room so that there were no distractions. Curuven poured the contents of the bottle into a cup. He nodded to Limil and Terrwyn to sit him up. Slowly, they put their hands under his shoulders and started to lift him. The elf began mumbling and Limil signaled to Terrwyn to stop. When he quieted down, they started pushing him up again. When he stirred, Limil whispered into his ear and he seemed to calm. Finally, they got him up far enough so that Curuven could administer the relaxant. The Healer stood in front of the injured elf and held the glass to his lips. The liquid touched his tongue and he made a disgusted face. Obviously, it did not taste very good and he resisted. Curuven spoke and the elf’s eyes opened a crack. As soon as he saw the Healer, he became agitated. Limil spoke elvish in his ear, but it didn’t seem to calm him. Terrwyn was beginning to worry for she felt the muscles in his arms and back tense.

“Why won’t he let us help him?” she asked.

“It is the poison. It gives him visions. He probably thinks we are trying to hurt him,” Limil answered rushing her words so she could get back to speaking elvish.

The injured elf was regaining consciousness quickly and Terrwyn felt helpless to do anything. She definitely was not strong enough to hold him down. She could not speak in his native tongue. All she could do was hold him up in a sitting position, and if this elf decided to get violent, she would surely be injured.

The Mirkwood elf gritted his teeth and spoke unkindly. Terrwyn couldn’t understand his words, but his mannerisms told her he was cursing them. Suddenly, like lightning striking, the elf came alive and swung at Curuven. The Healer was only a tad faster and dodged the very large fist. In the process, he dropped the cup and spilled the medicine. Terrwyn was frightened, but she could see things were about to get completely out of hand.

“Stop! Please stop! We are only trying to help you,” she yelled.

As if he had never been injured, the elf sat up on his own and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His line of sight came upon Terrwyn. The way he scowled at her was as if he were seeing the enemy. Terrwyn started to back up, but thought it better to stand her ground. “Please listen. You are in Ithilien and we are healers. You have been poisoned and you are not yourself. Let us help you. Please?” she pleaded in a very soft voice.

Like magic, the elf’s murderous face softened as he gazed upon Terrwyn. He looked to each side, giving Curuven and Limil a good once over, then his attention turned back to the young woman before him. He said something in his language to her, but she didn’t understand and looked at Limil.

“He asks if you are here to help him,” Limil translated.

Terrwyn nodded, though she still looked terrified. The injured elf spoke again, but this time Limil answered him. After a few exchanged words, she told Terrwyn what was said. “He wanted to know who you were and where you were from. I told him you were visiting from Rohan. I don’t think he has seen many Rohirrim women before.”

The entire time Limil filled Terrwyn in on the conversation, the elf’s eyes never left the young woman. His stare was very powerful and she felt as though he held her in some sort of trance. He was a most striking elf, hair to his waist, lean but just enough muscle to see his strength, square jaw and eyes of a brilliant shade of hazel, almost gold.

“I finnel bain,” he moaned more than once to her.

Terrwyn was frightened at first, but his voice went from demanding to pleading. “What is he saying?” she asked.

“He asks you to help him,” Curuven replied. “Here,” he said handing the woman a bowl that had more of the blue liquid in it. “See if you can get him to drink this. He seems to respond to you more calmly.”

Terrwyn took the bowl and cautiously approached the wild elf. “You must drink this,” she said and Limil rendered it to him. The elf looked into the bowl with wariness then back to Terrwyn. She smiled and nodded, extending the bowl until she was standing directly in front of him. She watched as his chest heaved in and out. She felt sorry for him. He must have been so frightened in his disillusioned state. She held to bowl up to his mouth and slowly he accepted it, drinking the concoction inside. His eyes instantly closed, though he fought it and soon he was asleep. Limil and Curuven lowered him to the bed, lifting his legs and making him comfortable. Terrwyn stood off to the side and watched. She was still amazed at the exchange that just happened.

“Alright,” Curuven said when the injured elf was resting comfortably. “Now let’s take a look at that leg.”

 

* * *

For three days, Feredir waited at his camp. He was beginning to worry that something happened to the scouts on their way back to Ithilien when finally he caught a wisp of golden hair in the distance. Two riders dressed in their Ithilien uniforms were making their way towards him. The dark haired elf remained cautious and hidden until they came into full view. When he was sure, he went out to meet them on the road. He bowed, hand over heart and watched as they dismounted. He knew these two golden elves. They were message runners back in Mirkwood during the dark days, brothers to be exact. Now they lived in North Ithilien and commanded their own group of young scouts and messengers.

The three elves spoke briefly about their tardiness. There had been sightings of Southrons in small groups gathering with others. The brothers were nervous, knowing they could not get attacked, and halted their travel for a couple days. When the road was clear of danger, they continued on. Finally, the taller brother handed Feredir a folded parchment with a wax seal. He would not say what their findings were in Rohan. That was for the Captain of the Ithilien Guard to know. The brothers took a short rest, mainly for their thirsty horses, and soon were on their way back to the city. Feredir carefully placed the parchment in his pack and secured it to the saddle. He so badly wanted to know what was written inside and wished for it to be something useful. Time was of the essence now that winter was waning. Now he knew he did not want Terrwyn to leave, or at least sent back to Rohan. Maybe there was something inside the letter that would keep her here, in Ithilien.

Eventually, Feredir left his small camp and headed on the path that would lead back to the city. The news from the brothers was very disturbing. Ithilien was always under some form of attack. It was still in the process of being rebuilt, which made it more vulnerable. These men that challenged them were not at all happy with the new ruling of Gondor. They were threatened by the close relationship with Rohan. Their lands were shrinking in a sense and they would fight to keep it as it were. The Haradrim were a small force to reckon with, but strong nonetheless. They preyed on the less fortunate, converting them or forcing them to join their cause. Southrons were a harsh race, stealthy and keen, but not as cunning as the elves, or as abundant. Feredir remembered that now as he traveled alone, not the most ideal situation, but there was no choice.

He made it back to the outer border of Ithilien. Only another days ride and he would be back in the city. Feredir smiled to himself. It would be wonderful to see her beautiful face when he gave her the lost trinket. He allowed his mind to wander a bit, remembering how good she felt in his arms.

“Ai, Feredir,” someone shouted. He stopped his horse and reached for his bow that was strapped to his back.

“Put that bow away,” someone demanded.

Feredir looked down from his horse and saw an ellon standing beside a tree. “Horphen, is that you?”

It was Feredir’s close friend and battle companion. He came away from the tree as Feredir jumped down from his horse. They clasped arms, smiling. Then Horphen gathered Feredir in his arms for a brotherly hug. “You have been gone for an age my friend,” he said pulling away and looking Feredir over from head to toe. “Seems city life has been good to you,” he jested.

Feredir laughed and ran his hand through his long black hair. “Well, it has definitely been a learning experience, and you can tell the Captain that if he asks.”

Horphen became serious and reached into his tunic, pulling out a small slip of paper. “I have orders for you from the Captain. Seems he wants you back at the borders,” Horphen said and handed it to Feredir, who opened it and read.

Confused, Feredir looked back at Horphen. “But I was sent to complete another mission for--.” 

“The Captain sent me to tell you to report to your battalion. There has been activity at the northern borders. A group of travelers was attacked not but a few days ago,” Horphen informed him.

“Travelers, why were they not entering from the main road?” Feredir asked.

“They heard of the recent assaults, no doubt the same ones that the brothers spoke of. To avoid confrontation, they came by a different route, but encountered a group of orcs.” Horphen’s face fell. He placed his hand on his friends arm. “Feredir . . . they are from Mirkwood.”

Feredir creased his brows. He asked no more questions. The look on Horphen’s face confirmed his suspicions. He knew the travelers or at least one of them. “Was anyone injured?”

“One.” Horphen’s short answer came in the form of a whisper.

“I have to go back to the city,” Feredir said sharply.

“You have your orders. The Captain says your current mission can wait. He needs your skill more. He has reenlisted you to your troop.” Horphen looked deep into Feredir’s eyes. “Don’t mess this up again. If the Captain gives you another chance, you must do as he says and gain his trust. Do you want to come back to the patrol or do you want to sit around and babysit prisoners?”

Feredir had a good idea of who the travelers from Mirkwood were and if his intuition was right, he felt he needed to be there. However, Horphen made a good point. Glandur had already given him many warnings. Yanking him from the border guard was the last straw. If he disobeyed any more orders, his career and all his ambitions would be squashed.

He gathered his thoughts and pushed them aside for the moment. The letter, Terrwyn . . . it would all have to wait. The warrior was alive once more. “Let’s go then. We have orcs to kill.”

Horphen smiled and patted Feredir on the back. “It’s good to have you back, brother.”

* * *

The injured elf had been in a deep almost coma like sleep for a couple days now. Terrwyn would not go in his room alone. There was something very dangerous about him and she feared what he might do if he woke up and she was by herself with him. She remembered how he looked at her, how he had fought. He was fast, even when injured. What would he be like when he was fully conscious?

Curuven said he was healing quickly. The medicine counteracted with the poison in his bloodstream. The arrow had been removed and the wound kept under close watch. He and Limil changed the dressing regularly, which meant Terrwyn was kept busy sterilizing bandages. This was good though because it took her mind off Feredir. Yesterday, a message arrived saying that he had been redeployed to his old troop. The attack on these travelers would not go unanswered and they searched for the orcs responsible for it.

Today, Master Curuven had to make a house call to an elderly man that could not make the short journey to the healing house. Limil was busy getting a tonic of some kind ready. The poison took its toll on the injured elf and they wanted to give it time to work its way from his system. They were reducing the amount of painkillers that kept the elf in his dream-like state, allowing him to wake up slowly. It was time to see what condition he was in, since the wound on his thigh was healing quite nicely.

Terrwyn walked past the elf’s room on her way to the back. She could hear him mumbling something in his elvish tongue and wondered what he was saying. She stopped and cracked the door open. He was lying on his back, his head moving from side to side. It seemed he had been restless. The thin white sheet covering him had been pulled down, exposing his chest. He was very well muscled, she thought, especially for an elf. Most elves of the city were lithe. The guards were anything but that. Still, there was something about his physique, something rough, an earthiness that she had not seen before. He was an elf from the wild woods, living off the land. There was something enticing about that. 

Her eyes traveled from his naked chest to the sheet wrapped around his waist. It contoured his body leaving not much to the imagination. Everything was outlined by the thin material, even a prominent bulge between his legs. He had very strong shapely thighs, the kind that could trap an unsuspecting mortal such as herself. Her heart raced slightly at the thought. Feredir, though somewhat smaller in stature than this elf, possessed the same power. She knew what it was like to be trapped beneath him.

The patient moaned again and she wiped her carnal thoughts from her mind. He seemed to be waking and Terrwyn was not sure she wanted to be alone when he did. She started to close the door when he called to her. He spoke in elvish, but she could tell by his tone that he asked for her. He had seen her spying on him from the door. She slowly opened it but did not come into the room.

“Aniron nen,” he said. His voice was hoarse.

Terrwyn did not move, standing in the doorway and staring at the elf. He asked again, sounding desperate for an answer or an action from her. “I’m sorry, I do not understand. I need to get someone who--.”

“No,” he interrupted. “Water . . . I need water.” He spoke in barely a whisper and his eyes were merely slits. It was obvious that he was still under the influence of the medicine.

There was a glass and a jug of water on the table near his bed. Terrwyn cautiously went to it and filled the cup. Then, as if approaching a wild animal, she carefully went to the elf. He was lying flat on his back. “Do you speak the common tongue?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered, trying desperately to open his eyes wider. “Please, I need some water.”

He sounded so desperate that Terrwyn could not help but feel sorry for him. “You will need to sit up. Can you manage that?”

He lifted his head and slowly sat up on his elbows. As he tried to lift himself, he winced in obvious pain. “I need help. I am too weak.”

Terrwyn narrowed her eyes. She did not quite trust him, injured or not. She had felt his strength and seen his agility. If this was some kind of ploy or if the poison still affected his mind, she could be in real trouble. “I will help you, but do not try anything. I have a knife hidden on my person and will not hesitate to use it.” This was of course a lie. Her weapons had disappeared before leaving Minas Tirith, but he did not need to know this.

“I swear to you, my lady, I will not do anything that I will regret,” he answered.

Terrwyn stared at him a moment longer. Why didn’t she just go and get Limil? The elleth was just down the hall in the back room. But when she looked at this injured elf, she couldn’t help herself. She went to him and placed her hand behind his shoulder blade. As he sat forward, she pushed him and placed pillows behind his back to keep him from falling back down. Finally he was sitting up far enough to get him to drink more easily. As he sipped, Terrwyn looked down over his broad shoulders to his pectoral and abdominal muscles. Even in this relaxed state, they were very prominent. And his arms were made of the same well sculpted strength. He was very handsome indeed and Terrwyn couldn’t help but be curious about him. There was something exotic about this elf. It was more than just the fact that he was from Mirkwood. Feredir was from the same land, yet he seemed more like her, like others of the city. This mysterious elf was free from civilization, at least the kind she was used to. He had his own set of rules and this was what made her weary of him.

He finished the glass and handed it back to her. “Le channon,” he smiled. “Thank you, I mean.” He laid his head back into the pillows.

“Are you in any pain?” she asked.

“Pain does not bother me. It just tells me that I am still alive,” he said and winced as he tried to readjust his posture.

“You should not move. That leg has not healed. The Healer has only wrapped it and you still need stitching,” she said to him. At least she sounded like she knew what she was saying. Actually, she was just repeating what she heard Limil say earlier.

The elf looked at her for a long time, his attention focusing on her long red hair. “I remember them telling me you are from Rohan. I understand your fear of me, but I promise I will not bring you any harm.” He knew the people of Rohan saw the wood elves as dangerous beings. It was something his people were proud of, another form of protection from the outside world. Mirkwood had been assaulted for so many years by the dark creatures of the woods. The last thing they wanted was a challenge with Men. It suited them just fine that the Rohirrim kept their distance and did not journey into their forests.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“I am Terrwyn,” she answered. She was starting to feel a little more comfortable around him.

“Terrwyn,” he said, letting the name role off his tongue. “That is a lovely name. I am Orthorien. Again, I thank you for your help.”

“Oh, well I--.”

“I thought I heard voices,” called Limil from the door. “It is good to see you awake.” She entered the healing room and went straight to Orthorien, looking into each eye individually. “I think the poison has finally been reversed. Now we just need to let your leg heal. I’m afraid you won’t be going anywhere for a while. That was an awful wound. The arrow piece caused a nasty infection and it must keep draining before it can be stitched.”

Orthorien looked up at Limil, who was beautiful beyond reckoning. He smiled slyly. “I must be blessed to have stumbled upon a healing house made up of such beautiful women.”

Limil raised one eyebrow as if to challenge him. “You are lucky to have been brought to my husband’s office,” she said putting emphasis on the word ‘husband’. “He is the Master Healer of the city and the one who has saved you.”

His attention turned to Terrwyn. “But I was sure I saw a vision during my fogged state, like fire burning off a thick morning mist.”

Terrwyn blushed at his forwardness. She wasn’t sure what kind of game he was playing, but she was sure it was an attempt to woo her. His blue eyes caught her green ones and she found she could not move. Limil noticed the exchange and stepped into his line of sight. “You, Master elf, need your rest,” she said sharply. “Here drink this.” She shoved a flask at him containing a clear liquid. “It will not put you to sleep like before, just help with the pain so that you may rest easier.”

Orthorien drank the liquid and smiled. “I am glad to be in such good hands.”

With that, Limil put her hand on Terrwyn’s shoulder and led her from the room, leaving the injured elf to once again slip into reverie. Once they were in the hall and the door closed, she looked to Terrwyn. “I see not much has changed in Mirkwood. The cantankerous youthful ones still think they are invincible. He does not know just how close of a call this was, and he is still not out of harm’s way.” She laughed and walked with Terrwyn down the hall. “He is what we used to call a ‘draug’, a wolf. He means you no harm, but to your heart he can be deceiving. It is a common trait amongst wood elves.”

“But Feredir is a wood elf,” Terrwyn argued.

“And can you honestly say he has not shown you his wild side?” Limil asked accusingly. When the woman did not answer, she laughed. “He may be a Peredhil, but his elven half is all wood elf.”

Terrwyn had to agree. When Feredir let himself go, he was definitely all elf, from head to toe and everywhere inbetween.


	31. A Job Well Done

“Feredir, look out!” yelled Horphen.

The black haired elf swung around just in time to see an orc charging him. With no time to nock an arrow, he pulled his sword from its sheath and raised it. He spun around, using the momentum to speed up his strike. His blade cut deep into the flesh of the orc’s neck. With one last effort, the orc swung his dirty blade at Feredir in an attempt to take out his enemy. The tip of the blade caught the vulnerable spot of the elf’s arm, ripping his shirt and cutting his skin. This only angered the young elf and he quickly finished the job by cutting the orcs head from its miserable body.

Horphen came running to see if he was alright and saw the blood on his arm. “You’ve been hurt. You must get to the healer right away, Feredir. The blade may have been poisoned.”

Feredir ripped his sleeve even further and looked at his arm. “It is only a flesh wound and I know the feel of poison. I believe I am alright.” Horphen patted his friend on the back and laughed.

“Let’s rejoin the troops. We’ve ventured quite far. You know we should not have chased this filth into the forest,” Horphen said as he kicked the beheaded body.

Feredir looked at the orc in disgust. “They attacked our own. It will not be tolerated. You know that, Horphen.”

“Yes, and I also know it is this same behavior that got you put on guard duty. We can’t afford to lose you again Feredir. We need your strength and your stealth.”

Feredir smiled. “You are a good friend, Horphen. Come, let’s get back before we are missed.” The sooner they took care of their enemies, the sooner he could get back to the city and see Terrwyn. She was a constant on his mind. The longer he was away from her, the more he longed for her.

Horphen paid close attention to the change in his friend. He had seen that look before, but never on Feredir’s face. He was his own elf, never letting his heart get involved. He had his regular ladies he would visit when he needed a reprieve, but never once did he get serious about them. If there was one that could change this elf, it was that barmaid at the Hollowed Leg. Horphen knew his friend always had a soft spot for the girl and she was his first guess.

“So who is she?” Horphen asked as they made their way through the thick forest on their way back to their camp.

“Who is who?” Feredir was playing dumb when actually he was cringing to think that his feelings were showing so easily.

“Come now, my friend. I know a love starved elf when I see one.” Horphen ruffled Feredir’s hair and the dark elf batted his hand away.

“You are mad,” Feredir retorted. “Besides, what would you know about love? Let me see. There’s that pretty little thing that you like to visit once a month. Then there’s that vixen that you lock yourself away with when the Captain gives you leave for a while. Oh, and let’s not forget the one whose father almost shot your bare ass with an arrow as you were fleeing from her bedroom window that night.”

Horphen laughed. “And she was well worth it too. How was I supposed to know her parents were home? She gave me the signal. I thought we were safe.”

“It is like I said. You are mad,” Feredir teased.

“I am in my prime is all,” Horphen argued. “And so are you. Don’t go wasting your youth on just one beauty. These are our final days in Middle-earth. You can settle down when we reach the Undying Lands.”

“Perhaps you’re right Horphen, but I assure you that there is no need to worry about me. You on the other hand, will not make it to the far off shores, especially if that elleth’s father catches you again.”

The two elves laughed and marched back to their camp. Feredir put on a good show, but his friend had made him think about something. Terrwyn was mortal and he still had a choice to make as a Peredhil. In his mind, there was only one choice. He would sail with the rest of his kin. Terrwyn made him rethink this possibility. If he returned to her and proved to himself that he was in love with her, could he abandon everything he had ever told himself? This was too much to think about right now and so he pushed these thoughts from his mind. Perhaps he agreed with Horphen. These were good days for a young elf. Terrwyn was beautiful and smart. She was a challenge to him. Maybe this was all it was. He tried very hard to convince himself of this until his hand came up and touched something hidden inside the pocket of his tunic. With him, he carried the wooden butterfly. If he didn’t care, then why did he keep it so close to him, protecting it, anxious for the day he could return it to her.

Word came that their duty was done. Feredir’s border guard battalion would return to the city. In just a few short days, he could deliver this letter to the Captain, seek out Terrwyn, return her prized possession and win her heart. He no longer wanted to keep his distance from her. He knew what he felt and thought she felt the same. 

* * *

Master Curuven was getting ready to change the bandages on Orthorien’s thigh. Limil had to go into town and only Terrwyn was there to help. He explained what needed done and Terrwyn nodded. “Will he be asleep while we do this?”

“He is still medicated, though not as heavily. You have nothing to fear. The poison has left his system. He is no longer a danger.” Curuven looked down at Terrwyn and something occurred to him. “And if you are worried about . . . seeing him, I promise to keep him covered. We need only to expose the thigh, nothing more.”

Terrwyn breathed a sigh of relief and laughed nervously. “I know I am being silly, but . . . it’s just, well . . . he is an elf and I’ve never seen--.”

“If you are going to become a healer, you cannot let that bother you, Terrwyn. In a life or death situation, you will not have time to think about such things. It is only part of the body, nothing more.”

Terrwyn smiled. “I understand, Master Curuven. Well, let’s do this then.”

They entered the room and the elf seemed to be resting comfortably. Master Curuven pulled the sheet up, exposing the leg and nothing more. Terrwyn lifted it so he could unwrap the old bandage and see the wound. It was healing nicely, but still looked red and irritated. It must have been very painful, she thought. She was amazed at how easily she forgot all about vanity and only focused on the injury. Curuven showed her how to carefully clean the wound and apply the healing slave. As he was whispering his instructions, Terrwyn glanced up at the sleeping elf. As if he knew she was watching him, his eyes cracked open. He smiled and gave her a wink. Then he closed his eyes just as quickly, but the smile remained. Terrwyn contained a gasp, not wanting to alarm the Healer. The name Limil used to describe the elf came back to her, ‘draug’. Indeed, this one was a wolf and he had her in his sights.

Terrwyn ignored the exchange. They finished up with the bandages and covered the elf back up. Curuven informed her that she had done a good job assisting. They were just about to leave the room when the Healer reminded her to collect the used bandages from the side table. Curuven left the room, but Terrwyn went back to the bedside. She quietly picked up the dirty cloths and turned to leave quickly, but suddenly felt a hand gently grab her wrist. She gasped.

“Will you come back later and sit with me a while, my lady. I could use the company.”

Terrwyn blushed. “Well, I don’t know if--.”

“Please, it would do my heart good to have someone as beautiful as you to talk with. I find you very intriguing, Lady Terrwyn,” he pleaded.

She looked into his golden eyes. How could she say no? He only wanted someone to talk to and she could do that much. “I will be back later with the midday meal. I will join you then.” She didn’t wait around for him to say any more and quickly left the room. She felt that if she stayed, she would fall under some spell of his. He was very captivating, especially his eyes. Terrwyn remembered Limil’s warning. Still, her curiosity was much stronger. Yes, a meal and some conversation, that was all.

* * *

Orthorien turned out to be very charming and Terrwyn enjoyed their time together. He ate well and seemed to be recovering quickly. When they were done with their meal and visit, Terrwyn gathered the tray of empty dishes and then smiled down at her patient. “This was very enjoyable, Orthorien. I am glad you are feeling better. Perhaps the Healer will let you get out of bed soon.”

“I would like that very much. I have been lying here for so long that I’m beginning to think I will never walk again.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. Soon you will be out of the healing house and off to--.” She paused. “Why have you come to Ithilien in the first place?”

“I have only come to visit someone I have not seen in a long time,” he answered with a smile.

Terrwyn returned a shy smile and made for the door.

“Terrwyn,” he called to her. “If the Master Healer allows, will you walk with me?”

“I would enjoy that. Let me talk to him and see if it can be arranged.”

Later, after a thorough examination, Curuven gave Orthorien permission to start walking again. Terrwyn was there and helped steady him as he stood for the first time in a week. He was a little wobbly at first, but soon regained his legs and had no troubles.

“Now, don’t go for very long. You don’t want to open that wound. Take it slow and don’t go far and soon you will be on your way again,” Curuven informed the elf.

Terrwyn and Orthorien had a nice walk. He held her arm as they went, asking her many questions about Rohan and its people. She learned a bit more about Mirkwood, though most she had learned from Feredir. The thought of him made her pause and Orthorien sensed her worry.

“Something bothers you,” he said as a statement rather than a question.

“I am worried about a friend who has been away longer than I expected.” She smiled and pushed Feredir from her thoughts, sure she was the last thing on his mind any more. “I am sure everything will be alright.”

“Good. I do not like seeing you troubled. It takes away from your beauty.” As he spoke, he turned her to face him and captured her in his stare once again. He caught her off guard as he leaned towards her, stopping just short of touching her lips. Terrwyn’s heart raced. She was unsure of what to do. Orthorien was a charmer and hard to resist. He showed his desire easily, which frightened her, but also made her pulse race. She knew it was not proper, but couldn’t help but wonder what he could do to her. Just when she was ready to accept a kiss from him, Orthorien pulled away, leaving her wanting more. He smiled slyly, as if he had just proven a point. “I’m afraid I have behaved improperly, my lady. We hardly know each other. This is what you are thinking, is it not?” His eyes penetrated hers, further seducing her. “You search for something. Perhaps I can help you find what you are looking for.” His voice was merely a whisper, but it sounded as if he were right inside her head. She closed her eyes and let him carry her into his world. “I can show you many things. I can make you forget your troubles, forget this . . . friend.”

He frightened Terrwyn the way he spoke to her, looked at her, knew her thoughts. She was not in control of herself. Orthorien dominated her mind, her moves, her feelings. Even with her eyes closed and standing in such close proximity to him made her body come to life and she realized she wanted him. Trying as hard as she could, Terrwyn remembered Limil’s warning to be careful of elves such as him, but his warm breath on her ear made it difficult to sway her thoughts. How long had she been drawn to elf-kind? How long had she wanted to know their touch? Orthorien could give her all that she sought. She would finally know that strength, that wildness and freedom that was elvish. She realized just how much she longed for it, how many years she had searched for it. It would finally be revealed to her, if only she gave into Orthorien and his wicked charm. Yes, she would give herself to him. It mattered not that he was still a stranger. He was an elf. What more did she need? Terrwyn would fall into his secret world and submit to him and then she would finally know what it was that she searched for.

His scent filled her head. His warm breath caressed her neck. Terrwyn envisioned a world very much like the one in her dream. This was Orthorien’s world and she was alone with him amongst the ferns and thick growing trees. How easy it would be to disappear with him and never be found again. As he said, he could take her away from her troubles, from this disparaging life full of worry and unknown future. Oh how she wanted everyone to forget about her and just vanish forever from everything and everyone.

She could have sworn she felt the slightest brush of soft but masculine lips upon hers when suddenly there was a single word spoken deep in the furthest reaches of her mind. This one word was what kept Terrwyn from going any further. It kept her from falling under Orthorien’s spell. She fought hard against that desperate whisper, that voice that she knew better than her own.

“Naru,” it said in a long drawn out breath, and she knew. She knew who it was that called her back from this other world.

“Feredir,” she answered and her heart filled with something other than desire. That was when Terrwyn realized she did not want to disappear for there would always be someone searching for her.

Terrwyn opened her eyes, expecting to be lost amongst the trees with this strikingly handsome elf holding her in his arms and kissing her. What she found was Orthorien standing by her at an arm’s length away, observing her but not touching her. She was confused, her thoughts muddled.

“Is everything alright, my lady,” Orthorien asked innocently, as if there had been no exchange.

Terrwyn looked around at her surroundings. They were still in the garden that was not far from the healing house. People walked by, but no one paid them any attention. She had been drawn so far away from this place, she could have sworn her and Orthorien were alone. Whatever had just occurred had her in a daze. “What . . . happened?”

Orthorien took her arm for she seemed as if she would sway. It was true that he tried to seduce her with his words, his touch, but something or someone came between them. It was something strong, stronger than he had ever felt before and something he had never experienced from a human. There was another force at work and it already had a hold of her. “You seem to have been lost in your thoughts, my lady,” he answered. Orthorien would not tell her what he felt. It was obvious she was unsure also.

Terrwyn gathered herself and came back to focus on Orthorien. She could tell by the placement of the shadows cast upon the garden floor that they had been gone longer than she would have liked. Her concern turned to him. “You have been gone for too long. Master Curuven will be wondering where you are. We must get you back to the Healing House and rest. You are not fully healed yet.”

The mystic elf nodded in agreement with her and they started back. All the while, Terrwyn kept trying to figure out the exchange that had happened. She had a sudden need to know how Feredir was. It had been too long since she heard anything from him.

* * *

Feredir sniffed the air. Ah, the smells and sounds of the city, he thought. After a hard battle, there was nothing like coming back to the things that others took for granted. For the first time in a long time, Feredir felt himself again as he fought in battle, his bow and sword renewed for they had been put in service. He had protected his people and sought revenge against those that would bring them harm. He needed to get to Master Curuven’s healing house and meet with his kin. They had traveled far from Mirkwood and any word of his home was greatly appreciated. He also needed to check on the injured ellon, for this was someone he knew, someone he had not seen in a long time, someone he was not sure was here to bring him good news.

And then there was Terrwyn. Feredir had time to think about all they had shared and how they had grown. He wanted to start new and he prayed there was something in this letter that would help her.

Feredir needed to get to Captain Glandur’s office first. It was his first duty upon arrival. The Captain would be expecting him before he could go anywhere else, and the young elf wanted to show him how he had changed. He approached the door to his office and knocked. His Captain’s voice commanded him to enter.

The golden officer stood proudly from behind his desk. “Your commander has informed me of a job well done, Feredir. It seems you have proved yourself and your talents once again. You were greatly missed, I hear.”

Feredir smiled. “That is what I was told. It felt good to be amongst my brothers again, Captain.” As he spoke, he took out the sealed parchment and handed it to Glandur. “For days I have kept this tucked safely away. If you don’t mind, Captain, I would like to know what information it holds.”

Glandur looked at Feredir curiously. “This is unexpected. I thought you considered the prisoner a nuisance.”

“Well, she may very well still be that, sir, but she is also lonely and anxious to know what will happen to her. I do not want her to be left in the dark much longer and would like to deliver the news to her personally, good or bad, sir.”

“Very well, let’s see what the letter holds,” Glandur said breaking the wax seal and carefully unfolding the parchment. He read silently and thoroughly then lifted his eyes to look at Feredir, who was waiting patiently. “Well, it seems the two men testifying against her are no strangers of Rohirrim law. They have been accused before of robbery and attempted assault against women, but there is nothing to say that they were involved on the night in question.”

Feredir released a breath he was holding, which turned into a disappointed sigh.

“However,” Glandur continued. “There is evidence that the nobleman’s son sent quite a few messages by winged delivery to somewhere on the outskirts of the land of Rohan, but nowhere does it say exactly where or to whom the messages were delivered.” 

“Was that not where she said these men meant to take her, just outside of Rohan?” Feredir asked.

“If these messages were sent to where I think they were, I would say there is a very good chance they ended up in the hands of the Haradrim. It is an area well known to the Southrons,” Glandur answered.

“There is something here, something that we can use, but not enough. These men know, but they are not talking. What of the carrier service? Someone had to have known were these messages were being sent.”

Glandur laid the letter down on the edge of his desk. “Just days after Terrwyn fled, the old man who owned the dovecote was in a terrible accident that took his life. It seems a wheel came off his cart, throwing him from the wagon. The fall was fatal.”

Feredir felt the wind knocked from his hopeful sails. “Is there nothing else? These scouts were in Rohan for how long and this was all they could find?” His voice rose in anger. “I should have been the one to go. I could have found something that would clear her name.”

Feredir’s protective manor did not go unnoticed by the Captain. “You would not have gone then, even if I commanded it of you. I believe I see what it is that bothers you so. You feel for Terrwyn, don’t you? Your heart has been touched.”

The young elf understood the rules and it was forbidden for a guard to become involved with his charge, no matter what the circumstances. Instead of defending himself, Feredir said nothing.

Glandur smiled. “I understand your predicament more than you might think. I too was in a similar position, before I became Captain, before Ithilien. I too was a border guard and was occasionally asked to train new students. Any kind of interaction besides professionalism was prohibited with a student. Yet, I met someone that I could not turn away from. I did my job and I did it well, but I had to bury my feelings deep. That was the most difficult thing I ever had to do and it almost cost me my happiness, but in the end it all worked out.” Glandur moved closer to Feredir. “We will not stop searching for evidence. There is someone out there who can help us clear her name.”

“I would go to the ends of the earth to find this person, if it would mean Terrwyn could have her life back, whether she wanted me or not. I know deep in my soul that she is innocent.” Feredir said.

Glandur patted Feredir’s back. “Well, I was ready to reenlist you permanently to your guard unit. You have no doubt proven your maturity. I will send you back to your troops if that is what you want.”

Feredir looked to the ground and took a deep breath. This was what he wanted for so long and he finally got the recognition he felt he deserved, but some things change and for Feredir it was Terrwyn. “My Captain, I would greatly appreciate being sent back to the border. I do not want to waste my talents.” He lifted his head and came to meet Glandur in the eyes. “However, my job as a prison guard has not been completely fulfilled. I have yet to finish what I have started. I will remain in the city until my ward is released.”

“Very well,” Glandur smiled. “Head to the Master Healer’s house and continue your duty. Oh, and while you are there, check on our injured guest. I believe he has been expecting you for a while now.”

“Yes, Captain,” Feredir answered. He knew who the injured guest was and he was in no hurry to see him. How long had it been? Not long enough, he thought. When he left Mirkwood, he was told that this was his life to live now. This elf would not have come if it were not something important. The last person he wanted to see right now was him. Still, he needed to know his reason for traveling so far. First Terrwyn, that was who he needed to see. Then he would deal with his past.


	32. And Along Came Naru

Chapter 32 - And Along Came Naru

 

With a hurried stride, Feredir made his way to Master Curuven’s healing house. Long had it been since he laid eyes upon her. He was surprised, shocked by how much he missed seeing her lovely face, her long wavy red hair. He wanted to know Terrwyn better and if that meant slowing himself and taking his time with her, then that was what he would do. The fact that he could not shake her from his mind while absent from her had to account for something. Feredir was not used to this kind of behavior either. He was used to having no strings when it came to relationships. Feona had been the best example of that and even she could see something brewing in his heart, but why now?

All of his life he thought of himself as nothing else but elf-kind. As far as he was concerned, he would stay in Middle-earth for as long as he needed to or until he felt the call. Then he would sail with the rest of his kin. And then, along came this simple human woman with a complicated past. At first, he did not care. This was all just part of a punishment for something he did not see as wrong. He never noticed her then, never cared and even made her life miserable at times. When she ran from him that day in the forest he was prepared to injure her and stop her escape. This was all he ever knew, his only way of thinking. He was a warrior, a border guard. She caught his eye for one single moment and his perception of her changed. He had felt his heart leap. Yes, he ignored it and tried to force those feelings back to the depths in which they originated, but he couldn’t, not completely.

Then, there was the time when he saw her mentally collapse as he continued to belittle her in an attempt to cover his own newly discovered feelings. Feredir could literally see the hope dissipating from her soul. He had been responsible for that. She was no enemy, but he treated her as one, pushed her to her very limits and she ended up in the healing house because of it. Feredir was ashamed of himself for letting things get that far. Terrwyn injured herself, choosing pain before asking him for help and have him gloat again. Why? Why did he treat her this way? So often, he had asked himself this. Back then, his answer would have been simple. She irritated him, or so he thought. What was bothering him was the fact that deep down she was affecting his heart, turning him into the one thing he said he would never be, a fool in love. The very thought made him want to stick a hot iron rod into his leg, but he knew deep down it would not change anything, just prolong it.

This messed up everything, every plan, every dream. He did not want that, but he could not ignore what his heart told his mind. The real reason for feeling like a fool was thinking he had his life figured out already; thinking nothing could sway him from that path. Terrwyn did just that. She challenged every aspect of every hurdle he had to jump thus far. Still, he felt the first twinges of love.

Love . . . even now, the word made him cringe. Then he would envision her sweet face and the way she looked at him. Feredir wanted to see himself the way that she did. She trusted him, trusted that he was fair and kind, that he would not take advantage of her. He needed to prove to himself that she meant more to him than just another bedmate, another notch in his four-poster.

Feredir reached the healing house and turned the knob on the door. He did not expect to see an empty waiting room. This was odd, but good news for the Master Healer. No patients meant healthy residents, a good feeling for someone that worked as hard as Curuven.

The elf readied his heart, but now he needed to ready his mind. There was still the complication of the injured elf. Before he could concentrate on Terrwyn, he needed to see him, know he was alright and learn of the reason for his visit. Feredir went through the door that led to the healing rooms. All was quiet as he opened the first door, finding the bed made and empty. No one occupied this room. He came to the second door and slowly twisted the handle. Peeking inside, he found the same result. No one was here. One more door and this would most definitely be where he would find his injured kin. He grabbed the handle, took a deep breath and closed his eyes, unsure of what he would find. The door opened gently. To his surprise, the room was empty, but there were definite signs of occupancy. The bed was made, but rumpled. The jug on the table was filled and the glass next to it was half-full.

Feredir shut the door and wondered where the patient might be. It seemed no one was anywhere to be found, not Master Curuven or his wife, not Terrwyn, not even the Mirkwood elf. He made his way to the back room, where the medicines were fabricated. Someone had been in here. There were some powders placed in piles waiting to be put into a flask for mixing. Someone was making a concoction of some sort, but it seemed they stopped.

He ran his fingers through his thick black hair as he often did when in thought, when his ears picked up on the sound of laughter coming from outside. Feredir strained his hearing for another sample. When he heard it again, he knew right away who it was. Terrwyn’s voice was a constant in his mind and he knew that sound. He smiled to himself, reached into his tunic to the pocket of his undershirt, and pulled out a small cloth. He carefully unwrapped it and took out the little wooden butterfly. For so long he had anticipated this moment, the look of surprise on her face as she was reunited with her beloved trinket.

Feredir walked to the back door and peered out of the window before opening it. He just needed to see her, take in her beauty before announcing his arrival. He wanted to observe her as she laughed, enjoying a beautiful day in the garden with Master Curuven.

There she was, kneeling amongst the winter herbs, a basket at her side. She was smiling and saying something, but he could not hear her words for she spoke so softly. She turned to look behind her and Feredir followed her line of sight. Then, the smile disappeared from his face. His heart fell a thousand leagues. It was not Curuven in the garden, but the one elf he wished not to see. Feredir watched as he strode to where she knelt, offered her a hand and helped her to her feet. Then he reached for her chin, tilting her face up to meet his. He captured her with his golden- eyed stare, the same eyes that had cast innumerable judgments on Feredir. Why was he not in bed recovering from this ‘horrible wound’ that everyone mentioned? Why was he with Terrwyn, smiling at her seductively? Moreover, why was Terrwyn letting him spoil her with his charms? Surely, she could see right through his exterior. Surely, she was smarter than that.

Feredir’s heart sunk a second time as he watched the golden elf’s thumb swipe across her lips, parting them. He leaned towards her and Feredir expected Terrwyn to back away, but she did not. She allowed this behavior, even seemed to want it. No, he thought to himself. “Not my Naru too. Have you not already taken away everything else from me?” he said softly, his breath creating a foggy condensation on the window. He peeled his eyes from them to look at his clenched fist. Slowly opening it, he looked at the butterfly he had so carefully kept and tossed it carelessly onto the workbench. It tumbled and rolled, coming to rest behind a row of empty jars, hidden from plain sight. At the same time, the protective wall around his heart that he had begun to dismantle started to build once more. Every little ping was another brick replaced, filling the recent gap . . . and his soul cried out in despair for it to stop. It was too late though, his mind answered and his soul crumbled into a ball where it would once again be contained. Disappointment was familiar to Feredir. He knew how to deal with that much better than his recently discovered feelings for Terrwyn.

He could take no more and just as these two were about to kiss, he slung open the door, making as much of a commotion as possible. Stunned and surprised, the spell was broken as the pair turned their attention to the workroom door.

Terrwyn’s heart leapt as she realized this was no vision. Feredir was really here, standing tall and looking just as handsome as ever. She had had doubts recently about her feelings for him, especially with Orthorien around. Without any word from Feredir the entire time he’d been gone, and knowing they parted with such doubt and hesitation, she let herself entertain the idea of being with Orthorien. He had a way of making her feel so alive, as if she had no problems. Sometimes she felt as if she was in a daze when in his presence, a place she found she did not want to leave at times. 

Now, here was Feredir, materializing like an ethereal apparition and she knew Orthorien did not compare. Feredir made her body tingle, her heart pound one hundred times faster. She had been so unsure of her feelings for him up until now. Feredir was the elf she dreamt of all her life. His was the one name that came to her mind constantly.

Terrwyn smiled at the dark haired elf. “Feredir, you are back. I was unaware of your return.”

Feredir stood stone faced, but she ignored it and went to him, wrapping her arms around him. His hand came up and rested on her back, but with no emotion. She stood back and gave him a look of uncertainty then laughed it off. It was not the first time he had this kind of reaction. “Come, there is someone I want to introduce you to.” She took his hand, but he would not budge from his spot, as if his feet were glued to the stone step. “Feredir?” she asked confused. His sight trained on the other elf.

“Hello Orthorien. Shouldn’t you be in your healing room recovering?” Feredir said in an icy voice.

“Come now, Feredir, has it been so long that you forget it takes more than a poisoned arrow to keep me off of my feet?” Orthorien responded with a forced smile. He could tell that Feredir was none too happy to see him.

Terrwyn felt the tension, but even more, she was surprised to see they had met before. “You know each other?” she asked.

Feredir remained silent, letting Orthorien answer her question. “Feredir is my brother.”

“Half-brother,” Feredir added instantly.

Terrwyn furrowed her brow and looked to Feredir. “Your brother? In all this time, you did not mention having a brother.”

Orthorien continued. “It is no surprise. I am the reason he came to Ithilien in the first place. He felt he was living beneath my shadow in Mirkwood.” His face showed a smug smile. “He did not understand that I was only trying to help him.”

Feredir narrowed his eyes. “I will not discuss this now.” He looked at Terrwyn again. “It seems the two of you have become quite acquainted with one another.”

“I helped to take care of him of course. I am the Healers assistant after all,” she defended herself. She was unsure what this tension was, but she did not appreciate it one bit.

“Is that your title now?” Feredir’s voice was cold. “Has something changed in my absence? Last I heard you were still a prisoner, though you are not treated as such.”

His words physically threw her as she took a few steps away from Feredir. It was as if a fist had reached into her chest and squeezed the blood from her heart. Her mouth hung agape and her eyes tinged with hot tears that began to pool. She did not know this elf. Even from the very beginning, he had never reacted in this way.

From behind her, Orthorien spoke. “A prisoner?” he said almost as if it were a joke.

Feredir’s hands went to his belt buckle as he held his head high. “Oh, she did not tell you this bit of information now did she?” He knew deep down this was not right. He should not have been speaking in such a way, but it was the only way he knew to discourage Orthorien from any further interest in Terrwyn. His brother was a captivating, determined elf and when he saw something he wanted, there was no stopping him. It was true that Feredir had always felt he was two steps behind his brother. He was used to it and knew how to manage himself around the older warrior, yet never had he needed to defend someone else against his brother. Terrwyn was naïve, or at least he thought she was. She would not be able to keep from falling for Orthorien’s incorrigible charm. From what he saw through the window, he may be too late, and if she did choose his brother, Feredir would not lead on that he had begun to let her into his heart. It was better that she did not know.

Terrwyn glared at Feredir with daggers in her eyes. She waited to see what he would do, how he would react, but he was like a marble statue. She would get no response from him. As she kept her eyes trained on Feredir, she answered Orthorien’s question. “It is true. I am a prisoner and your brother is my guard.” She paused, looking over her shoulder and away from Feredir. “A guard and nothing else it seems.” She took a few steps away from the dark-haired elf. “I await the people of my lands to come for me and bring me back to Rohan. But while I was being held here in Ithilien, I was given another chance and allowed to learn a bit about medicine. What started out as a working punishment has turned into a learning experience. I have learned a great deal about herbs and healing, when to act quickly to save a life . . .” Here, she looked once more to Feredir. “. . . and when to let go because there is no hope of recovery.”

With these last words, a tear escaped the corner of her eye. She just wanted to run, to get away from all of this. She felt like the fool to think that Feredir could ever see her as anything but a prisoner. It seemed like a long way from the spot where she stood in the garden to the door of the house, and Feredir stood between like an angry bulldog. Without saying another word, Terrwyn charged at him, walking as quickly as her legs would allow. At the last moment, he moved out of the way and she ran into the house, upstairs to her room. She was angry, embarrassed, ready to either scream or cry. Why had Feredir returned to his original persona? She thought they had made progress. She felt as if he finally saw her for who she was and not the person everyone else made her out to be. Now she knew he was only doing his duty. Once she was gone, Feredir would go back to his former life. At least he had a former life. Hers was a torrent of disappointment and grief, and her future did not look much better.

Meanwhile, back outside in the herb garden, Feredir and Orthorien remained standing there, looking each other over for it had been many years since they had been together. Orthorien made the first move, walking to Feredir, where he still stood atop the steps. He seemed to like his perch and Orthorien would not try to chase him down. So he stood at the bottom of the few steps that led to the back door of the healing house and looked up at his brother.

“I know I have intruded upon your territory being here, and my visit was unexpected,” Orthorien started. He looked past his brother to the door. “If I have stepped past my boundaries with the girl, then--.”

“She is a prisoner, not one of your latest adventures,” Feredir said sternly.

Orthorien looked at him curiously, “Yes, of course,” he challenged. “And what of you Feredir? Last I heard you were making your way quickly through the ranks of the border guard, and here I find you a city warden.” Orthorien shook his head slowly in disappointment. “You have yet to learn to harness that determination of yours. My guess is that you mouthed off to one of your officers or took situations into your own hands. You always did have trouble following the rules.”

“I do not need one of your lectures, Orthorien. Besides, I am being reinstated soon. I have fulfilled my duties here.” Feredir held his composure with his brother, who was known for easily getting under his skin.

Orthorien brought himself to the step just below the one Feredir stood on. “Are you sure about that, Brother? Seems to me there is still a duty you have not attended to.” He smiled slyly and glanced to the window above them. “Seems to me there is something more than meets the eye going on with the girl.”

Feredir remained cool, but Orthorien could see that he stumbled on some private feelings that were simmering just below the surface. The dark elf gathered himself even more, the invisible wall surrounding him now thicker than anything even a dwarf could carve through. “You heard her; I am her guard and nothing more.”

Orthorien smiled in that way that made Feredir’s blood boil, the same way he did when Feredir was an elfling. “That is good to know then. Perhaps I will stay a bit longer here in Ithilien. Hmm, a prisoner, now that is something I have not encountered yet.” Orthorien laughed and walked past Feredir, entering the house.

His brother’s laugh rang in his ears. It was that same laugh that said he would never be as good as his older brother and that his half-elven blood would never allow it. In all the years it took Feredir to separate himself from Orthorien, he was brought right back with that one sound. He felt himself shrink, no longer the top warrior of his battalion, but the child who could never escape his heritage. It was times like this that he wondered why this had to happen to him. Never was anyone so proud to call himself an elf and never was anyone so self-loathing at the same time. Feredir had tried very hard to forget his Gondorian blood and the ridicule of growing up as a Peredhil amongst many proud full-blooded Woodelves. Now, with an unexpected visit and only a few words, Feredir was once again transformed to that intimidated elfling he so despised.

Feredir turned and followed his brother into the house. “Leave the girl out of this,” he growled. “Why have you come, Orthorien? You agreed to give me my peace and so far, you have kept your word. Why are you here now?” he demanded.

Orthorien put all joking and arrogance aside, letting his shoulders drop. “I come with news of our mother.” His tone changed to sadness now, and Feredir knew he was being sincere.

“What about Mother?” Feredir asked anxiously. “Has something happened to her?”

“Feredir,” the golden elf started, placing a caring hand on his young brother’s arm. “She has heard the call. She prepares to sail.”

Feredir’s brow creased. “What? Why . . . why now?”

Orthorien shook his head. “She feels her years are spent and she is ready to go home . . . to our real home across the sea. She will not leave until she has had a chance to speak with you. Feredir, she worries about you, about your Peredhil heritage. She wonders if you have made a decision yet. She will not say it, but I know she is troubled by this. She will spend years waiting for you to arrive in Valinor. She will check every arriving ship hoping you are on it. Mother says she will respect and accept your decision, whatever it may be, but I see her despair.”

“I have told her many times that I will choose the life of an elf. There is no other option for me,” Feredir argued.

“How can you be so sure, Brother. You spend so much time amongst the mortals. What happens if you choose to live as one of them? What if you--.” Here Orthorien looked up to the stairs that led to the upper floor where Terrwyn disappeared to. He didn’t say anything more, knowing Feredir got his meaning.

“With the girl?” the dark elf laughed nervously. He played a good game with his brother, pretending not to care, but deep down Feredir knew he had already considered this. The moment he realized he felt something for her he knew his decision would not be an easy one. Terrwyn complicated things. She always had and now he saw that she always would.

Orthorien dropped the subject and smiled warmly to his brother. “Mother needs you soon, Feredir. She will not sail before you come home, but know that every moment spent waiting for you will slowly become more agonizing. Do not tarry, Brother. Even if you have no solid answer for her, you cannot let her leave without seeing you one last time.”

This changed things and suddenly Feredir thought his recent outburst was petty. His mother meant more to him than anything in Middle-earth. He knew there was still time before she sailed, but he would need to go back to Mirkwood soon. After all his mother did for him, all the ridiculing and abandonment she experienced among her own peers after she returned to Mirkwood, pregnant with another man’s child, she at least deserved a peaceful voyage and hopefully a decision from her half-elven son.


	33. Son of a Hero

Feredir’s mother was a beautiful elleth, married to one of the kingdom’s best soldiers, a handsome warrior named Alagon. He was as fierce and admirable as any of his Mirkwood kin, with sun gold hair, tall, muscular and oft times dangerous. He had made his way high into the ranks of the Mirkwood army and became a captain to one of King Thranduil’s largest battalions. If ever there were an attack on the city the King relied on Alagon and his men to be at his side before all others.

Very soon after their marriage, the couple was blessed with their first child. Alagon’s pride was boundless as he held him and looked into his infant son’s alert eyes. His wife insisted that the moment they first made contact, a bond was insured between them that would never be broken for any reason. All of Alagon’s strength and fierceness poured into the child in that instant and a new warrior was born. His father named him for what he would one day become, a conqueror. And so the child was called Orthorien.

When the young elf was old enough, and not a day too soon for his father, Alagon started training Orthorien. He hand carved a practice knife and sword for him, but the bow he made was real and scaled to fit a child’s arm. He would waste no time in introducing his young son to the essential skill of archery. Every day Alagon was home from the borders, he spent with Orthorien, teaching him all his crafts, pressing him hard if he failed to give his all and praising him when he surpassed a certain goal. When other elflings were learning to manage their balance in the trees, Orthorien was hitting center target, splitting his own arrows in two. He became one of the youngest archers to serve in Thranduil’s army, aside from the King’s own son.

However, as the proud father poured all of his energy into bringing up his only son to be nothing less than the finest warrior in Mirkwood, he neglected his duties as a husband. It was not that he did not love his wife, for she was his world at one time. Alagon became single minded in his zeal to raise their son and Laveth was often forgotten. When her husband was away at the borders, she took Orthorien aside and tried to teach him about other things besides fighting, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Alagon made sure this was her son’s main goal, to be the best warrior.

Laveth was alone quite often once Orthorien had grown. She worried for her son and husband. It was hard enough having a bond mate who was always in the way of danger. Now she had her son to worry for too. She longed for another child, but Alagon said it was not a good time to bring a new life into the world. The tides were turning and evil grew. Many callous and bloodthirsty creatures roamed their precious woods lately. Rumors of war were in the air. Laveth’s husband would not hear of it, creating a new life when their futures were so uncertain.

“What if something should happen to me?” Alagon told her often. “How would you raise an elfling alone and during such tumultuous times?”

“If you will not give me a child, then I must do something to fill my days. You are never home and now that Orthorien is grown, I never see him either,” she argued with her husband.

“Something tells me you have come to your own decision. What do you propose?” Alagon questioned.

“I have applied for a position working in the royal palace,” she said proudly.

Alagon wrinkled his brow. “No wife of mine will be a servant,” he insisted.

“That is not my goal, dear husband, but it may be necessary in order to do what it is I have longed to do for a while now.” As Laveth spoke, she softened her voice, put on a winning smile and calmed her husband by gazing into his blue eyes. “I want to travel.”

Never had their household been more quiet than in that one moment. Finally, after the initial shock wore away, Alagon spoke. “Travel ! How do you expect me to approve of this? It is a dangerous place beyond our borders. Why in all of Arda would you want to leave the Greenwood?”

“It has always been a dream of mine, and I know I would be given the opportunity if I worked for the royal house as a trader’s assistant.” As Laveth explained the job to Alagon, she became very excited. “The King cannot get everything he needs from just Lake Town. I know for a fact that he reaches far beyond Greenwood, looking for the most unique and luxurious items to add to his collection. And people would trade almost anything they owned just to possess a small trinket that belonged to the great Elven King. Thranduil will never do this menial task and sends consultants with a trained eye who will know things of great value from that which is common. I want to learn this trade for myself. I know I can do it, Alagon. I have kept this house afloat by making trades and bargaining for the best things that benefit my family. I want to expand my talents and do the same for our King and his family as well.”

Alagon remained quiet and listened intently to every word she said. “And we still need your talents here at home,” he stated.

“You are never home Alagon, and now that Orthorien has made rank, he is never here either. I sit home day after day in an empty house, worrying and waiting for you both to return safe and unharmed. I need to have my own adventures now.”

“I do not like it,” Alagon demanded.

“I am doing this with or without your support,” Laveth protested angrily.

And so it came to be that Laveth followed through with her idea and gained employment in the palace. Though she did indeed start out as a simple servant, she (much like her husband and son) worked hard and made her way to her dream. She became an assistant to the head trade’s dealer. She traveled many times to Lake Town and bartered for many different things from exotic fruits to colorful cloth. It was during one of her last visits that the King himself took notice of her ability to haggle with a client until they had the best trade possible. Thranduil called to his consultants, sending them on a new errand. The King had learned of some of the finest silk ever woven. It was far off in the realm of Gondor, made from the silk of the rarest of caterpillars. Other’s had offered to trade barrels of their finest wine, jewels and much more but without any success. They were all told the silk was so difficult to procure that there wasn’t anything of great enough value to offer in trade.

“Laveth has proved herself to be quite a negotiator,” Thranduil said to his traders. “Give her this chance to bring home even a small sample of this silk. Should its maker part with the slightest amount, then it will open up an avenue for more. If anyone can break the maker’s resolve, it would be Laveth,” King Thranduil commented.

That night, when Laveth told Alagon where Thranduil was sending her, he protested yet again. He complained that she was never home, always working for the royal family. She reminded him that this was the same royal family for which he worked and for whom he put his own life in peril. They argued long into the night, wasting one of the few times they were home alone and together, but Laveth felt she needed to stand up for herself. She would live in her husbands’ shadow no longer. He would never understand. The next day, Alagon left for the borders and Laveth left for Gondor, neither one settling their differences.

* * *

Gondor was alive and busy with an invisible energy. Laveth was completely surprised at the enormity of its White City. Compared to Mirkwood, it was overwhelming and she was in awe. She went with her companions to the home of the textile maker where she met Callo, a broad shouldered, tanned skinned man with black hair and a very warm smile. She liked his name too, meaning ‘hero’, but wondered why a weaver would be so named. What Laveth noticed more than anything was his silver eyes. They were striking and caught her quite by surprise. She had never seen eyes so colorless yet so radiant. No human she had yet encountered was adorned with such eyes and she caught herself staring. Embarrassed, the elleth turned away, feeling the need to shrink into the background.

Callo was a man of Gondor with blood ties to the Numenoreans, which meant he had unnaturally long life. For a man at the age of sixty-seven, he looked quite young and handsome. He was a widow, his wife passing unexpectedly from illness some ten years ago, leaving him childless. He lived a quiet life now, but that was not always the case. He had been a fierce warrior at one time, but tragedy struck when he accidentally and fatally wounded his lifelong friend. They were surrounded by goblins and things got very confusing. What Callo thought was an enemy behind him turned out to be his friend. He had run his sword clear through his friend’s chest, all the way to the hilt. When Callo tried to remove the sword, the dying man grasped his hand, which still held the sword, and whispered to him his forgiveness, saying it was his time to leave the world. Callo was devastated for he knew it could have all been avoided had he just listened to his commander in the first place, but Callo and his friend were very adventurous and sought to be heroes among their brothers in battle. Everyone told Callo it was not his fault, but the guilt threatened to destroy him. He left the army permanently and married a common girl whose family business was in the art and trade of textiles. Callo put his sword away for a loom and a life less violent and settled for a quiet life, hoping his unfortunate fame would die away quickly.

Now, many years later, he stood in his small home, a company of elves at his doorstep. They wanted something from him that he was not sure he could part with, a very rare silk, which only existed because of his wife’s curiosity with insects. It was she who discovered the rare caterpillar and wove the first sample of silk. Callo continued her tradition, but only made it for very special occasions. He had to know that its new owner would cherish his silks and not want it for their own greed. Each piece was a labor of love to Callo and he would not sell his fabric to just anyone.

He spoke with the elves from the far land of Rhovanion. They did their best to describe their King and his good intentions, but Callo distrusted them. Finally, Laveth stepped up and did her best to negotiate with the man.

It had been many years since his wife’s death, but no woman ever filled the void her absence left. Yet, here stood this beautiful elf, long golden hair that curtained her waist, eyes as blue as sapphires and the fairest most beautiful face he had ever seen. She intrigued him and he wished to spend more time with her, but the other elves seemed to be in a hurry to purchase what they came for and get back to the safety of their forest home. Eventually, Callo made an agreement with them. They could purchase some of his silk, but it had to be newly made. He would not sell them something already created. He told them that every piece was special to its owner and the only way he would know what to make was to get to know the King better. However, since the King himself had not come to Gondor, he would have to settle for the knowledge of one of them. He chose Laveth, saying he saw something in her that he trusted. The other elves wanted to discuss this amongst them, but Laveth took it upon herself to make the decision to stay and tell Callo all he wanted to know about her beloved King Thranduil.

For the next few weeks, Laveth went to Callo’s home and spoke with him. She answered all of his questions about her King as she watched the man create the silk. He said he was making it into a robe, which he felt the King would enjoy more than any other article he could make of it.

The elleth and the man became quite close, learning much of each other’s pasts and wants and needs. Laveth told him the most intimate details of her life, even her longing to conceive another child, but her husband would not allow it. Callo told her of his sorrow to never bring a child into the world and told her she was fortunate to already have one child. An attraction grew between them ‘til one night, and the last night before the silk robe was finished, Laveth and Callo made love. As she lay in his arms, he asked her to stay with him, to leave her life behind. He would treat her like a queen, give her the life and the love she’d always longed for. Laveth was heavily swayed by his sweet words, but in the end she declined his wonderful offer. She came to regret her decision many times over. And so, with a heavy heart, Laveth parted with her elven company the next morning. Before they left, Callo asked to speak with her one more time. They took one last walk through a garden they used to frequent. He told her his offer would always stand if she should ever change her mind. Then he placed his hand on her belly and told her she would have a son. Laveth laughed and told him there would be no child for she had not willed it. Callo smiled and kissed her once more before releasing her to her company. As the elves mounted to leave the White City, Callo whispered to her. “I hope I will meet him before it is my end,” he told her as she sat upon her horse.

During the journey back to Mirkwood, Laveth did indeed come to realize that Callo was correct. She was with child. Panic set in. What would she tell Alagon? She had shamed him and her family by having this affair. She knew she should have never let things go so far, but how many years had she spent lonely and waiting for her husband to come back. Then there was the argument they had on the eve of her departure.

Laveth took this time to come up with a plan, and one finally came to her. She would seduce her husband, give him plenty of wine, spend a night making love to him and tell him they willed a child. It was the only way this would work and if she worked quickly, the timing would still match between conception and birth. There was just one thing that worried her. The child would be half-elven and there was a great possibility that he would be more human than elf. His ears could be rounded for one. Laveth prayed that he would look like an elf, otherwise her plan would fail. Still, she thought about Callo and his offer. Could she really leave Alagon and Orthorien? Could she give up her life all for the sake of this unborn child?

The travelers returned home and met with their King, giving him the silk robe. He was very happy with his new prize. It was beautiful beyond anything he’d seen. It was colored in greens and browns with golden runes running along the collar and down the front. Around the bottom were white beech trees, the symbol of the King’s forest home. Depending on the lighting, it seemed to change color. Later, Thranduil learned that it even seemed to change with the seasons, or maybe the placement of the sun in the sky. In summer, the greens were brighter and in winter, the white trees blazed like the sun shining on fresh snow. This robe was truly both precious and magical, a most wondrous treasure indeed.

Laveth went home, expecting to find Alagon waiting for her. He was always waiting for her when she went away on business, though this was the longest she had ever been gone. With a bottle of the finest Dorwinion wine, (a reward from Thranduil for a job well done) and her plans fresh in her mind, she entered her house. She called for her husband, but he did not come. Where could he be? Was it possible that he was still upset over their last argument? They did not part on such good terms and that weighed heavily on her mind the entire time. She made herself comfortable and waited for Alagon to come home. Any minute he would be walking through the door, she thought. Eventually she drifted off into a light sleep.

Later, she awoke to a knock on the door. Laveth looked around hastily. The wine bottle was still full and the glasses never used. Alagon had not come home yet. Maybe he was still on duty. Whoever was at the door was probably there to relay a message from her husband. That was fine. She was too tired to follow through with her plan anyways. It could wait for another day. She answered the door and found one of the border guards from Alagon’s battalion. She smiled and called him by name before inviting him in. The fair elf looked very distraught and Laveth instantly started to worry. “What is it? Tell me?” she demanded.

The guard proceeded to tell her of the fate of her husband. He should have been home at the time she expected, however there was a surprise attack. The troops were not prepared, thinking they extinguished the problem. Somehow, a group of orcs slipped by their security and attacked when the elves were most vulnerable. The elf continued on, telling her how brave Alagon was, how magnificently he fought, but in the end he would not survive the night. While Laveth waited on her couch for her husband to come home, he lay on the forest floor surrounded by his brothers in arms and gave up his soul to Mandos.

Not long after, Orthorien returned home and he and his mother grieved for the loss of Alagon, but there was still one thing she had to deal with. Laveth told Orthorien about the unborn child and how it came to be. Her son was devastated by the news at first, but his mother was already in such turmoil he could not bring himself to add to her weariness. He decided he would help raise him, take seriously the role of being an older brother and teach the child as much as he knew. Laveth protested, saying it was not his burden to bear, but Orthorien insisted. They were family and family supported one another. He had no idea how much support they would need then, and soon learned just how difficult it would be.

It did not take long for word to spread about Laveth’s pregnancy. She would not hide it and showed it proudly. Everyone knew this could not have been Alagon’s child and rumors spread quickly. Everyone from dwarves to King Thranduil himself was named as the father of the child. Still, Laveth remained silent. It was her own business who the father was. It wasn’t until the child was born that she confessed to her affair with a Gondorian.

What a bittersweet day it was, the day the child was born. Just as Callo predicted, Laveth gave birth to a son. He was absolutely beautiful from his ten little toes to his pointed ears. He looked every part the elf that she prayed he would, but his hair . . . he had his father’s black locks. Then the babe opened his eyes and looked at his mother. Laveth fell in love all over again. Tiny silver eyes shined in the morning sun that filled the room. They were his father’s eye in every detail. Laveth would never be able to look at him and not think of Callo. She came to understand just how special this Gondorian man was to her and she vowed to let father and son meet some day.

Laveth stared down at her newborn child. She stroked the black fuzz on his tiny head and smiled. “Feredir, that will be your name,” she said. “You will be strong and determined like your father, yet compassionate and caring. I suspect you will also have his warrior’s blood coursing through your veins, but you are also part wood elf. Twice the warrior you will be.” She held him close to her, letting him suckle on her breast, the first nutrients filling his tiny body. “They all know you are not a full blood elf, I’m afraid. You will have to fight hard to prove yourself to them. It is my only regret, but you should be raised as an elf. Your father would take us in and love us to no end. Still, you belong here amongst the trees, amongst your people. You are and will always be my little elfling, Feredir, and I love you more than life itself.”

She could have shriveled up inside herself, but Laveth would not let her husband’s death affect her to the point that she despaired. She missed him greatly, of course. The guilt of her affair was hard to deal with. Knowing her and Alagon left not with love, but with harsh words weighed heavily upon her soul, yet she was a new mother again. She had a baby to raise, to teach the ways of the wild elves. Not until she was sure he was ready to be completely on his own would she even consider sailing. Feredir would need her and Orthorien to see that he was not discouraged by the treatment of others, and he would grow into the elf that he was meant to be.


	34. Kisses and Keyholes

Feredir stood alone in the herb garden to ponder his thoughts after his outburst with Orthorien and Terrwyn. He had to begin contemplating a decision and along with that came a huge responsibility. It made almost no sense to him why he fretted this choice. There was ever only one choice . . . to live as an elf. Why, when his mother had announced her coming departure, would he begin to question that choice? Feredir looked up at the second story window. There was his answer. The yellow curtains, tied back on either side, moved slightly and he saw a shadow disappear. Terrwyn was watching him. Again, he was racked with guilt. He acted out against her, jealously consuming him. But why?

Just the thought of Terrwyn with his brother made his anger rise, Orthorien . . . his older brother, his protector . . . his bane. No matter how far Feredir went, his brother would always come and devour his dreams, quash his existence. At times, he felt more like a father than a brother to him. When Feredir was young, Orthorien was always there, teaching him how to be a warrior, attacking those that would try to break his young brother’s spirit. As he grew, he thought Orthorien would fade slowly into the background, allowing Feredir to grasp at his own goals, finish his accomplishments with no outside help, but it was just the opposite. Orthorien constantly pushed him to do better, to reach further. Nothing was ever good enough. Feredir remembered the time he secretly overheard his brother speaking with their mother, telling her he would always have a difficult time because he was not one of them. At that very moment, Feredir knew that no matter what he did or how much he improved Orthorien would never see him as an equal. That hurt him more than he could ever understand and so he started to separate from his brother. It was difficult enough having to prove himself to those who were not family, let alone having to deal with a brother that would never accept him for who he was. And so started the rift between the brothers and Feredir’s goal to one day surpass Orthorien in his own eyes.

“She will be expecting an apology I suppose,” Feredir said to himself as he glanced up at Terrwyn’s window. Something caught his attention, movement in the far corner of the garden. He looked over and saw a robin; the first signs of spring had already begun. She would be gone soon. He needed to reconcile with her, so he made his way into the house and up the stairs.

Feredir knocked softly on her door. There was no answer so he knocked a little louder. “Come Terrwyn, I know you are in there.”

“I am not speaking to you,” said a muffled voice from the other side of the door.

“I do not need you to speak to me. I will do all the talking. Please let me come in or you come out, whichever you prefer,” he pleaded.

The latch clicked and the door slowly opened. Feredir’s breath caught when she finally came into full view. She was absolutely radiant wearing a pale yellow dress, the skirt ruffled and deliberately bunched up in places. It was cinched at the waist, showing off her slim body and accentuating her bosom. It hung off her shoulders showing her flawless skin, lace and little white flowers lining the edge of the neckline. Her hair hung down to her waist and a single braid on each side of her temple ran along to the back, keeping her hair out of her face. Feredir had never seen her look more beautiful for all he had ever seen her in was the colorless shirt and leggings she wore every day. His eyes scanned her body and he was about to let a smile slip onto his lips, but the look on her face reminded him why he was here in the first place.

“Why have you come, Feredir?” she said sternly.

“Why are you dressed as such?” he countered.

“I dress how I like when my work is done. The garden has been tended,” she retorted.

It was obvious that she was in no mood for small talk so Feredir got right to the point. “What I said out there, the way it sounded . . . I did not mean it and I sincerely apologize.”

“But you did say it and it is not the first time. I thought we were past this. I thought you were--. I thought I was--.” She stopped herself before it turned into a yelling match and looked to the floor. In a softer voice she spoke. “I cannot continue on like this. You have played with my emotions until I am drained.”

Feredir sighed heavily. “Terrwyn, I am sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I was so excited to see you again and then . . . then there you were with Orthorien and I--.”

Terrwyn narrowed her eyes. “That is it isn’t it? You cannot stand to see me with someone else, least of all your brother. There is something going on between the two of you. I felt the tension in the air. You can’t stand to see me happy,” she said accusingly.

“I want to see you happy, just not with my brother.”

“What is the harm? I think Orthorien is very kind and courteous. You could learn a thing or two from him.” Terrwyn had no idea how her words affected Feredir, as if a flaming red sword was thrust through his heart, burning him from the inside out.

He took a deep breath to keep himself from ridiculing her again. “I came to apologize and I have done so. Do what you like, but be forewarned, Orthorien is not who he seems. He will break your heart,” he warned. “Oh, and it looks like there is news from the elf scouts who returned from Rohan.” He took the parchment from his shirt pocket and handed it to Terrwyn. “It is not good, but not altogether bad either. The Captain says he will not give up.” Without giving her time to respond, Feredir left her room in haste, before he said anything more that he would later regret.

The door slammed and Terrwyn was left standing there. “You cannot break something that is already broken,” she said to herself, wishing she could have told him that. Could it be that Feredir really did care about her? He came to her room to apologize. And what was this hostility between him and Orthorien? None of this probably mattered anymore. Feredir was once again angry with her, like he seemed to be most of the time. She unfolded the paper and read, sad to hear the news that someone else had died, whether by accident or intentionally. Still, this was not enough information to keep her out of the noose. It all seemed like a waste of time to her. 

There came another knock on her door. “Go away, Feredir,” she yelled. “I told you I don’t--.”

“It’s not Feredir, my lady. It is Orthorien,” he called through the door. “May I speak with you?”

Terrwyn shook her thoughts away and answered the door. “What a delight, Orthorien. Do come in.”

His smile was radiant and contagious as Terrwyn found herself returning the joyful expression. “Master Curuven says he has an errand for you to run and has agreed to let me escort you, so long as you allow me to take rest at some point, preferably in a quiet garden or such.” His voice was so smooth that he almost seemed to sing.

Terrwyn was still ruffled from her argument with Feredir and a walk with Orthorien sounded like just the change she needed. “I would very much like that. I will meet you downstairs in a moment.”

Orthorien took her hand and lightly kissed it. “I’ll be waiting,” he whispered and his voice echoed in her head. Why was it he had this effect on her?

Terrwyn looked in her mirror, fixing any stray hairs that had come loose. She smiled. “Fine, Feredir, if you want to play a game, then let us play.”

* * *

Orthorien was once again a perfect escort. For the third day in a row, Master Curuven allowed him to join Terrwyn in her outings. She was not quite sure why and wondered where Feredir was. It was still his duty to guard her, yet he had made himself invisible. It was probably for the best and Orthorien was wonderful company. He shared with her stories of his battles against all kinds of creatures. It sounded like a very exciting and dangerous thing, being a soldier in Mirkwood.

They had just dropped off an order at the apothecary shop when Terrwyn noticed Orthorien wince. “Is it that wound? Is it giving you trouble?”

“A little,” he smiled. “But it is much better than it has been,” he answered, rubbing his thigh.

Terrwyn’s eyes traveled to his hands as they massaged his muscular leg. Her heart missed a beat before she regained herself. “Perhaps we should rest a bit before returning. We can go to the garden again if you like.”

“And a very lovely garden it is, my lady. The Lord of Ithilien and its people have done a fine job of restoring these lands. However, I think I long for something a little more to the liking of a wood elf, a forest perhaps.”

“Oh,” she said surprised. “Well, yes there are the woods on the opposite side of town, but if your leg is bothering you--.”

“I will manage if you do not mind the detour,” he smiled, his golden eyes capturing her once again.

“I do not mind at all. Come, I know a shortcut.”

Before long Orthorien and Terrwyn were in the forest and the elf breathed a sigh of relief. “My, there is nothing better than the smell of pine to clear one’s mind.”

Terrwyn followed suit and breathed deep. “It is quite refreshing, isn’t it? I’m afraid I had not noticed.”

“For an elf, every tree has its own aura. We can smell them from miles away and know just what kinds of trees grow in different woods, but pine, that is one of my favorites.”

Terrwyn closed her eyes and smelled the air again. “I see what you mean. I feel very relaxed all of a sudden.”

“It is good to see you like this. You seem very tense lately. Tell me, what is bothering you, my lady?” Orthorien took her hand and led her to a small clearing away from the busy garden not far from the edge of the forest. “It is my brother, isn’t it?”

Terrwyn did not want to think of him right now. She was feeling too good to fill her head with the sound of his voice yelling at her. “He has been hard on me, but he is my guard. I guess it is part of his job,” she went on defending him.

“It seems to me there is more than just the connection of a guard and his ward.” Orthorien stood so close to her, she could feel the heat emanating from his body, warming her as it did.

“Honestly, I thought there might have been at some point, but now I do not think so,” she answered sadly.

Orthorien lifted his hand and ran his finger along her jaw. “Then you will not mind if I do this,” he whispered, catching her chin and tilting her head up. His lips slowly covered hers then lifted. She did not resist and he kissed her again, this time a little harder making her respond. Orthorien finished the kiss and moved back to look at her. Terrwyn’s eyes were still closed, lips parted as if still kissing him. He smiled to himself at how easy it was to bring about a response. She was a very willing subject, but she also had feelings for his brother. They may not admit it, but something was stirring between them. Orthorien was no fool. He knew Terrwyn only allowed him this attention to retaliate against Feredir, but she was just so pleasing to be around that he did not mind.

After a little more walking amongst the trees and a few more stolen kisses, the last one ending with Orthorien’s hand ‘accidentally’ brushing past the side of her breast, they parted the woods and came back to the Healing House. Feredir was there with a scowl on his face as he watched the two of them laugh and smile. Orthorien’s hand rested on her waist and she did not seem to mind the intimate contact. Terrwyn glanced at Feredir, but quickly looked away. She did not like this, but Feredir did not dispute it either.

As they passed Feredir sitting at the worktable in the back room, Orthorien winked arrogantly at his brother. Then he led Terrwyn to the stairs, said his goodbyes, gave her hand a lingering kiss and watched her climb the steps. He sighed and turned around, walking back and joining Feredir at the workbench. He smiled that sickly grin that made Feredir want to punch something. “What a lovely girl. I do hope she is acquitted of her mistakes. She refuses to tell me, but I cannot see what someone like her could have done that was so wrong.”

“She murdered someone,” Feredir commented dryly. He expected to hear a gasp or something similar from his brother.

The older elf thought Feredir was only jesting. The smile never left Orthorien’s face as some wicked thought came to mind. “What a way to die then.”

This angered Feredir. “Why are you still here Orthorien? You have delivered your message. Your leg is healed. Shouldn’t you be on your way back home? I’m sure Mother is waiting for your return.”

“I have some time before I must get back. And besides, I told our King I would report back on all the new improvements that his son the Prince has made.” Orthorien gave Feredir a smug look.

“I think you can do that without entertaining the girl,” Feredir said through clenched teeth.

“If you care so much then why do you not go after her, brother?”

Feredir had enough and without answering, he left Orthorien sitting and the table while he left the house for some fresh air. The fact was Feredir’s confidence was lower when his brother was around. Those words, ‘he will never be one of us’ resonated through his mind every time he tried to build up his courage. It was pointless. Terrwyn was falling for Orthorien and that was all. He had lost her before he even had her. He made the decision to visit his old haunt, a place he had not been since his last night with Feona, his last night with any female as a matter of fact.

Terrwyn was settling in for the evening and made one last trip to the kitchen for a bite of fruit. She picked up an apple and headed back for the stairs. As she passed the washroom, she noticed it was occupied and didn’t think much of it until she heard singing coming from inside. The elvish words floated past her ear, making her stop and listen. There was nothing more romantic than listening to an elf speak in his own language. Whether it was a poem about love or a curse for one’s death, the way the words rolled off the tongue made her skin prickle. She felt that now as she listened to a certain Mirkwood elf singing from the washroom.

Terrwyn looked around. The house was quiet. No one stirred but for her and Orthorien. She leaned her head towards the door and listened, wondering what he was singing about. It did not matter and she closed her eyes letting the words soothe her. She heard the rustling of clothes from behind the door. He was undressing. She bit her bottom lip, trying not to let the thoughts she was having get too far out of control. Just a peek, she thought and leaned down putting her eye to the keyhole.

There he stood next to the tub, shirtless and unbraiding his hair. His long golden hair hung down his back to his waist. Iron muscles moved beneath the smoothness of his back. His hand reached into the tub, swirling the water, and he sat down on the edge. The elf started singing again and Terrwyn felt herself go into a trance. Orthorien’s arms looked as if he could crush an enemy’s skull with little effort or hold a lover with such a tender embrace. Terrwyn wondered how many elf maids had fallen prey to those arm’s holding them against his well-developed chest. Nothing was out of place; he was perfect to the eye.

He finished his song and stood up again, hands reaching for the laces of his leggings. His back was turned to her now and she noticed how the material contoured his fine buttocks. Then he started to peel the leather britches off. Terrwyn gasped and moved away from the keyhole. What was she doing? This was wrong. She stood up straight and again heard him sing. Not able to help herself, Terrwyn bent down again and looked through her secret hole.

He was stepping out of the pants, bending slightly. His long hair fell forward, all but that which stuck to his back from the moisture on his skin. Oh, but he was magnificent. His rear was taut and sculptured, curving just at the right places. Strong muscled thighs flexed, the kind that could trap a girl. He turned sideways and Terrwyn’s mouth dropped. So it was true what they said about the elves. They were blessed in every way possible and Orthorien was no exception. Even soft as he was now, he was rather big and she wondered what he looked like when aroused. He walked to a chair to place his clothes there, his elfhood swinging gracefully. Terrwyn licked her lips and continued to watch him step into the tub, easing himself into the water. As the warm water enveloped him, he moaned. Then he looked to the door. She could have sworn he smiled slightly, as if he knew she was watching. Terrwyn wasn’t paying attention when she stood up and dropped the apple she was holding, making a very loud thud. She heard water splash from behind the door. Orthorien was getting out of the tub. She left the apple and ran for the stairs. By the time the bathroom door opened, she was already at the top and out of sight. She breathed a sigh of relief that she was not caught.

That night, Terrwyn went to sleep with visions of Orthorien running wild through her hungry mind. What a magnificent elf, she thought and wondered about Feredir. What must he have looked like beneath his uniform? She blew out the candle and her hands disappeared beneath her nightgown.


	35. Lessons

Terrwyn awoke surprisingly refreshed. The sun was shining brightly through her windows, warming her room on this brisk morning. Although the weather had been warmer lately, the good earth sent a reminder that winter was not over yet. Today would be a good day to stay inside and she hoped Master Curuven wouldn’t send her out on any errands. She dressed and went downstairs to find Curuven and Orthorien sitting at the table in the workroom. They were talking quietly, as if discussing something important until they looked up and saw Terrwyn enter the room. They immediately ended their conversation and smiled.

“Good morning, Terrwyn,” Curuven sang. “It is going to be a lovely day today, though a bit chilly for you I’m sure.” He stood up, his smile lighting the room. Master Curuven had been wonderful to Terrwyn during her stay. In fact, it was Curuven and his wife who suggested that Terrwyn be allowed to stay with them indefinitely. Limil hated the thought of Terrwyn alone in the women’s barracks. Besides, she was not a threat. They felt they knew her very well by now and took full responsibility for her, though she still needed an escort if she left the house alone. Since Feredir seemed to have other matters to attend to, Curuven felt Orthorien was just as capable. He was, after all, a high-ranking officer of the Mirkwood army.

Terrwyn smiled at Master Curuven. “The day is just beautiful,” she replied.

“And so is our present company,” Orthorien chimed in, his golden eyes flashing at her from across the table.

The vision of him naked in the washroom skirted across her mind, but Terrwyn held her composure. “You are too kind, Orthorien.” She watched as he brought up two apples from his lap. He placed one on the table in front of the empty chair and held the other in his hand. “Care for an apple?” he asked politely, taking a bite.

She felt her face flush and was unable to speak or move for a long moment. Had he known she was outside the washroom door? Orthorien was the type who revealed things in a subtle manner so that a person wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not. He was the most mysterious person Terrwyn had ever met and sometimes she did not know how to react to him, like now. Whether the apple was an innuendo or he was being generous, she could not tell. So, she contained her embarrassment and smiled, accepting the fruit, sitting at the table and taking a bite. Orthorien’s gaze never left her while she did and she knew he had guessed she was spying on him through the keyhole. Terrwyn smiled to herself and thought that it was well worth a moment of embarrassment to have seen him as she did. He was a most captivating creature.

“I thought that today we would work on creating certain cures, Terrwyn,” Master Curuven mentioned during their morning talk.

“That would be wonderful. I really wasn’t looking forward to working outside today.” She did not like the cold and this would be a nice change.

“We will start with the basics now that you are familiar with the different herbs and such.” Curuven got up from the table and extended his hand for her to join him, which she did. Orthorien’s gaze never left her and she felt his eyes upon her even as the Master Healer spoke.

Curuven set her up with all the things she would need to make a simple salve. The first thing he taught her was how to properly prepare the ingredients. Some needed crushing and others needed boiling first. While she crushed some sort of seeds into a fine powder, Terrwyn took the opportunity to ask Curuven something that was a constant on her mind.

“Where is Feredir? Has he been assigned to a new prisoner?” she asked trying not to sound too concerned.

“No, but he has become aware of some . . . personal issues that need his attention right now.”

“Oh,” she said sounding disappointed.

Curuven smiled. “You have become quite fond of him haven’t you?”

“I’m not sure fond is the right word. I have just gotten used to having him around is all,” she answered, grinding the seeds a little harder.

“I know he has been hard on you, Terrwyn. He is only doing his duty. It is part of his punishment also, but something tells me he doesn’t see it as thus anymore,” Master Curuven acknowledged.

Terrwyn’s voice became stern and her words sharp. “He has never let me forget the reason I am here.”

“Yes, I am sure he hasn’t, but I also know that Feredir’s feelings for you have--.” Limil burst through the workroom door, interrupting Curuven. Everyone looked at the panicked elleth.

“Curu, my love, a boy in your office comes with word of his mother. It is the cook’s wife, she has gone into labor.” Limil’s tone was full of concern.

“Already? But it is too soon.” Curuven stopped what he was doing and instantly grabbed a bag that contained medicines and tools needed for child birthing. He kept it stocked and prepared for just such an occasion. Turning back to Terrwyn, he waved his hand frantically. “Just keep doing what you are doing.” Then to Orthorien he said. “You have the ability to make a simple salve, do you not?”

“Why yes Master Healer,” Orthorien answered quickly.

“Good, then keep Terrwyn busy with her teachings. I will be back as soon as I can, but it may not be until this evening.”

Orthorien bowed. “She is in good hands.” He smiled politely to the Healer, and then his eyes turned mischievous as he glanced at Terrwyn. She felt a rush of excitement run through her as she thought of those hands and what they might be capable of. The golden elf stood up and went to where she worked. “Right then, simple salves . . . always a good thing to know,” he commented.

“You have made them before I suppose,” she said, making small talk.

“In the field during battle, we must all know how to do this. Sometimes it is all we have to keep us alive until we can get back to camp and a healer.” Orthorien went on to tell her more about life as a warrior. They were faced with perils every day, very dangerous yet somehow he romanticized it and Terrwyn was captivated. They worked and he talked. Both elf and woman were enjoying their time together.

* * *

Feredir went straight to Captain Glandur’s office that morning. He needed to discuss the recent news of his mother. He knew the Captain was going to send him back to the borders, but this might change things. It was not a good idea to put a soldier in harm’s way when there were unresolved family issues to attend. Feredir’s mother awaited his return and that was of utmost importance.

“I understand, Feredir. I will hold off on my orders of reinstatement. Your men will be disappointed, but understanding. How soon do you need to leave?” Glandur hated to see his best soldier leave Ithilien, but hoped it was only temporary.

“Orthorien says there is still time. She has only recently made her decision to sail. However, you know how the sea longing builds over time. I know my mother has only just heard the call and her heart still wishes to remain in Middle-earth. It may be only one sun-round, two at the most, but she will not leave until she has seen me. I will not be the cause of any pain to her.” Feredir seemed very distant as he spoke, as if this was not the only thing on his mind.

“Then perhaps it is necessary to leave as soon as possible,” Glandur offered.

“Thank you Captain,” the dark-haired elf answered. He turned to leave the office but Glandur stopped him.

“Feredir, will you return to Ithilien? Your talents will be greatly missed if you choose to stay in Mirkwood.”

Feredir smiled. It was a good feeling to know he had a place where he belonged. “This is my home now. I will return, but when I do not know.”

“And what about the girl,” Glandur said softly. He knew this was the young elf’s other concern.

“Things did not turn out as I had hoped. I don’t think it was meant to be Captain,” he answered sadly. Then he looked to Glandur once more with pleading eyes. “You will not stop looking for some kind of proof in her case, will you?”

Glandur lowered his eyes and sighed. “I have not given up hope, but it is getting close to her departure time and still there is nothing much to go by. I have explored every avenue. I have done as much as possible and still remain within my jurisdiction. As you know, this is a matter of Rohirric law, not elven. We cannot overstep our boundaries, but I cannot help but feel there is something we are missing. Someone knows or has priceless information. I just cannot seem to find that person.” Glandur went to Feredir and placed a hand to his shoulder. “Do not go without speaking to her first. I know you and Terrwyn have grown close whether as friends or something more. I know what it is like to let something slip away, but I also know what it is like to stand up for what you believe in.”

Feredir gave a half smile and bowed to his Captain. “Thank you for always understanding, my Captain.”

Glandur once again straightened himself and captured that leader essence. “You will report to me when you have made a decision as to when you will depart?”

“Of course, Captain,” Feredir said in a formal manner. Then he took his leave and headed to Master Curuven’s house.

* * *

“And that is the reason he was reprimanded, all because of three precious hairs cut from his head?” Terrwyn asked, breaking out in a fit of laughter. Orthorien had told her the real reason why Feredir was pulled from the borders and put on guard duty.

“Oh, that is just the story his troops tell to make it more interesting. Actually, he was not following orders, and not the first time mind you. What he did was dangerous and could have resulted in his death or the death of his partner. I don’t know how many times I have told him he must obey protocol, but he has always been the type to follow his own rules when he sees fit.” Orthorien noticed a gleam returning to her eyes as he spoke of his brother. He moved to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder as she worked. She was using the mortar and pestle to grind down some roots. “You will injury your wrist if you do it that way.”

“What?” she said surprised to see him standing behind her. She never even heard him move around the room. “I have always done it this way.”

“If you hold it like this,” he said reaching around her, leaning against her back. “I think you will find it much easier.” He placed his hands over hers and moved them to show her what to do.

His hands were warm and Terrwyn could feel the calloused skin of his palms. They were strong, large and sensuous. They closed around her hands, which seemed to disappear beneath his. His body contoured against her and her back tingled where they made contact. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his long wheat-colored hair falling over her shoulder, mixing with her red locks. The muscles of his arms rubbed against her and she felt them flex as he continued to help her crush the roots. His breath caressed her shoulder. He was so close and she felt herself transcend into that hypnotic state he always put her under. All other sounds in the room seemed to disappear and all she heard was heavy breathing. At first she thought it was Orthorien, but soon realized that is was her own she was hearing. How was it he had this kind of effect on her, she was not sure, but if she gave into it she feared she might lose herself completely.

“Is that better,” he whispered against her neck.

“Uh . . . yes . . . much better,” she stuttered.

He released her, his hands traveling up her arms as he brought them back. Then he moved her hair from her neck, gently lifting it and laying it over the opposite shoulder. Terrwyn mindlessly continued to grind away at the root when she felt his warm lips kissing her neck. She shuddered at his touch, which began to rouse her. It did not take much to fuel her passion, Orthorien noticed, and he wondered just how far she was willing to let that passion go. He lifted his head to her ear and whispered her name in a long drawn out breath.

Terrwyn closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the job at hand, but it did not seem to help much. Behind closed eyes, all she saw was his naked form and those piercing gold eyes bearing down on her. She remembered the forest they had walked through and could smell the pine, as if she were there now. His hands rested at her hips and drew her to him, to his well-built muscled chest. She tried to resist but with little effort.

“Relax love, I will not bite,” he soothingly said against the back of her ear. Then she felt his lips form into a smile. “Not unless you want me to.”

His voice was enough to melt her and she felt every muscle in her body begin to go limp. Orthorien was very good at his craft and as strong as she thought she was, she was unable to resist his charm, his seduction. Terrwyn couldn’t deny the fact that she wanted him, to have an elvish lover, to feel his body cover hers and crush her.

“Orthorien,” she cried, a weak attempt to stop him, but no other words formed. All she could see in her mind was his body, toned and nude, wanting her . . . wanting to take her and--.

Terrwyn was suddenly aware of a lush green forest, like the one she often dreamt of with the fern covered floor. She had always felt a presence there, a longing for someone, and she realized she needed to feel that longing now, but it was not there. Yes, she wanted Orthorien. He was a perfect example of the wildness of elves and no doubt he could take her to great heights, but she didn’t long for him. He could satisfy her, make her body sing with delight, but there would be no afterglow to bathe in. She would only satisfy her curiosity and nothing more. There was something more waiting for her, something lasting and pure. Terrwyn knew who could end this longing and she wanted him still even if he did not want her. Feredir was the only one that could set her world on fire, and the one person that pushed her away every time she tried to get close. What a vicious circle, she thought to herself.

“Orthorien,” she said again, this time with a little more force. “As much as I want this, as good as you make me feel, I . . . I must stop.” The three most difficult words she had ever spoken in a time such as this, but necessary.

The enchanting elf stopped at her first plea. He had hoped that her spirit was free, but understood the reason she refused him. He had felt it in her resistance, what little there had been. Orthorien released her, turning Terrwyn in his arms so she faced him. His face was genuine as he spoke. “I could have made love to you, given you all the answers to this intense desire you hold to know my kind. I sense this about you and I wanted to be the one to show you, but I am not the one who should.” Orthorien knew it, had felt if from the first moment he saw the woman with his brother. She held out for Feredir and no amount of seduction would change her mind. “I hope he is worth it.”

Terrwyn knew Orthorien understood whom her heart longed for. She also knew he loved his brother very much and wanted to see him happy. They may have their differences, but they respected each other. Maybe Orthorien had only been curious too. She smiled and was glad he recognized this and would not push her any further. She was not sure she would be able to resist him again though. Terrwyn learned something about Wood elves. They were very persuasive. “I hope so too,” she answered with uncertainty.

Orthorien caught her chin and gazed into her green eyes. “I would ask for one thing before we promise to never do this again. Will you allow me but one more taste of your sweet lips?” he begged. He captured her with his steely stare and moved towards her. Terrwyn could not stop him, didn’t want to and allowed him to kiss her.

His lips were warm and moist, soft but determined, nothing like the kiss of men. He kissed her as if to give her joy before taking any for himself. Oh, what a considerate lover he would have been, but he was also an elf, a full-blooded elf. She knew he could not tie himself down to just one lover, but the lover he was with would feel as if he was their very own.

“You may be relieved of you duty, brother,” said a voice from the doorway.

Terrwyn gasped and pushed away from Orthorien, who never even flinched at the intrusion. “Feredir,” she said surprised. “I did not expect you.”

“That much is obvious,” he said, but his sight was trained on Orthorien. The golden elf remained silent. Nothing he could say would make the situation any better.

Feredir peeled his eyes away from his brother to gaze upon Terrwyn. Anger turned to desolation, as he felt overruled once again. “You have made your choice it seems, but I still have a duty to attend to.”

Terrwyn was too shocked to respond, but Orthorien left the spot where he stood, making his way to the door. He stopped as he passed Feredir and whispered to him. “Things are not always as they seem, little brother. You have won after all, but if you only look at this as a contest, then surely you are defeated. Not by me though, by your own ignorance.” He touched Feredir’s forearm then left.

Feredir’s eyes drilled into Terrwyn and she couldn’t tell if he was angry, hurt or just doing his duty. She quickly turned back to the workbench, picked up the pestle and started grinding roots again. Feredir took his usual seat at the small table and let his emotions turn into himself as he seethed over the scene he just came upon. Still, he felt he had no say in this. He had no claim over Terrwyn. She was free to choose whomever she wanted, but why did it have to be Orthorien.


	36. Weightless

The workroom was silent except for the clink of glass or the crunching of dried leaves. A small pot started simmering on the stove and a fire crackled in the hearth. Terrwyn worked diligently, ignoring the burning sensation at the back of her head where she was sure Feredir stared at her. There he sat in his usual place at the small table, watching her, being the warden. She wished for a disturbance of any kind, just to end the tension in the room. There was not much to do now that her teachers were gone. Crushing herbs was all she knew to do. At least she would have a good deal of ingredients prepared by the time Master Curuven came back. Feredir had chased Orthorien away, the only other person that could have showed her what to do, though she doubted they would have gotten far with all that happened while they were alone. Perhaps it was a good thing that Feredir arrived when he did, even if it meant seeing her in the arms of his brother. Why did he care in the first place? The dark-haired elf had always been condescending towards her and on the rare occasion when she thought he was about to open up to her, he had run away as if she carried the plague. It bothered her that she longed for him when he was gone and wished he’d leave when he was near. Terrwyn saw Feredir much differently in her mind and she seemed to easily forget what he was like once he was in her presence. 

The young woman worked absentmindedly, going through the motions while her mind tried to figure out this puzzle, when there came a sizzling noise from the stove. The pot had boiled over and beads of hot water danced on the iron top. Panicked because it held a very rare plant that needed boiling in order to be useful, Terrwyn tried to save what was left and grabbed the handle without using a towel to protect her hand. It instantly seared her skin and she dropped the pot on the floor. She cried out in pain, holding her burnt hand to her chest. Water from the dropped pot splashed up onto her skirt, staining it with brown blotches, which she knew would not come out in the laundry. “Damnit,” she cursed in her Rohirric tongue, crouching down and picking up the pot with a nearby towel.

“You should have used that to begin with,” Feredir called from the table.

She looked at him through the red tresses that had fallen into her face. There he sat, feet on top of the table and leaning back in his chair. Terrwyn said another round of Rohirric, this time directed at the elf. When she was done, he merely laughed under his breath.

“Why are you here anyway?” she blurted out. “I got along just fine while you were gone.”

“That much is obvious,” he said quietly, thinking she would not hear. He was wrong.

Terrwyn knew he was talking about Orthorien, but chose to ignore his blatant comment. “I am no longer a threat as far as Master Curuven is concerned. I think I have proven that and no longer need a guard. What is there to guard against anyways?”

“Perhaps you need guarding against yourself,” he muttered again.

Terrwyn stood up and glared at him through fiery eyes. “And just what is that supposed to mean?” she shot back.

Feredir lowered his feet to the ground. “You know very well what it means. Don’t think that I have not noticed the looks and glances you share with Orthorien.”

“And what business is it of yours? You have no claim over me,” she argued. “Orthorien is very kind and I enjoy his company is all.”

He laughed. “Oh, I could see that for myself.” Then his face turned serious and he took a step towards Terrwyn. “Orthorien may seem like that now, but believe me he is only after the prize between your legs.”

“How dare you speak to me like that,” she countered, backing away from him as he slowly advanced. “Besides, it is my choice who I wish to fraternize with. Maybe I liked having him lean over me, breathing upon my neck, feeling his lips on my skin.” Terrwyn backed up until she was up against the wall of the workroom. Feredir had kept up with her steps and now stood in front of her, only inches between them. His silver eyes seemed inflamed with an inner hatred that he held for his brother. “At least he made me feel as though he wanted me.”

Feredir’s eyes softened at this. How could she say that? He did want her. He had always wanted her, but he could not move forward with their situation. Terrwyn could see that she struck a nerve and she would not back down now. “You do not want me. You made that very clear every day we were together. You made that even more clear that night in my healing room.” She paused a moment, waiting for a response from him, but he seemed at a loss for words. “I would have given myself to you that night, but you pushed me away. Why should I think there could be anything between us? Every time I feel you getting close, you run off like a frightened deer and then make it seem as though it is my fault.” Terrwyn put her hands on his chest and pushed him away from her. “At least your brother shows compassion and kindness,” she spat angrily.

Those last few words felt like a slap to his face and he winced inside his mind. It was time she knew why he did what he did. He grabbed her arms a little hard, ignoring the face she made. “I did not take you that night because I thought you were special. I thought you deserved something more, but obviously this is what you want. Do you just want someone to fuck you? If so, I could have done that in the woods when you ran from me. I can find a woman with the snap of my fingers who I can fuck meaninglessly, but I want to make love to you,” he admitted. Then he released her and turned from her site. “Go on then and keep letting my brother seduce you. He will give you a good screwing if that is all you are after. His charms are false. His promises are empty. I thought you were different, Terrwyn. I thought you were someone I could--.” Feredir stopped himself.

“You thought what?” she countered with a venomous tone. “You thought you could love me? Is that what you were going to say? You love no one but yourself. You, Feredir are an egotistical, arrogant ass.”

Faster than she could blink, Feredir spun around, pushing Terrwyn against the wall, his hands flat against the stone on either side of her shoulders. She shuddered as she felt his anger and his strength. For a fleeting second, she knew how it felt to be his target. This must have been how it felt to be that Southron he killed. She was frightened, but at the same time aroused. Yet she did not let either one show. He had always been a bully, but she would not let him affect her like this anymore. “Go on then. What are you going to do, hit me?” she challenged him.

Without hesitation, Feredir captured her mouth roughly. She tried to push him but he was too powerful. He forced his tongue into her mouth, pushing deep and tasting every part of her. It did not take long for Terrwyn to stop resisting. The kiss was hard and wanton. Desire and lust flowed between them. He pressed his body to hers and she felt his hardening member against her belly. Feredir writhed against her, letting her know just how much he wanted her. When she finally gave in and responded by wrapping her fingers into his long thick hair, he pulled away from her, looking deep into her eyes.

“You do this to me Terrwyn. You turn me into some crazed animal and I feel as if I have no control. But I do not want you like this. It is not who I am. It is not who I want you to see and so I ran. I didn’t know what else to do.” His eyes softened and his hold on her relaxed. “I want you when you want to be with me, and not before that. Otherwise, it would be meaningless . . . meaningless as my brother would have it.” He pushed himself away from her, turning to face the opposite side of the room. He felt ashamed to have let himself lust for her again.

All this time Terrwyn had wanted to hear this from him. She was never sure how he felt, but now that she knew, her heart was opening to him. “It is a longing is it not? That is what you search for. You need to feel the longing not the lust.” 

Without turning to her, Feredir nodded in agreement. Terrwyn smiled to herself and continued. “There is something you do not know, something you saw but did not hear. I made Orthorien stop. I realize I could have let him seduce me, but I wanted something more and he does not possess that.” She removed herself from the wall and reached out, her fingers capturing his waist length black hair. “I do want you, Feredir. I have always wanted you, but more than that I have longed for you.” Terrwyn released his hair and looked to the floor. “I never wanted anything from your brother except to make you jealous. I know it was wrong, but it felt as if there was no other way to get through to you.”

Slowly Feredir faced her and saw a single tear threatening to escape the corner of her eye. He had hurt her again, made her go to extremes to gain his attention. He hated that feeling. Reaching up, he caught the tear before it had a chance to run down her cheek. Then he closed the distance between them, bringing his lips slowly to hers, stopping just before they touched. “Let me show you how I want it be.”

His lips pushed gently against hers as his hands rested at her waist. Terrwyn responded by mimicking his moves, lightly accepting his kiss. Feredir’s hand left her waist and came to rest at the side of her face. He deepened the kiss with the offering of his tongue, which she gladly accepted. Again he tasted her, but this time he reveled in the feel and the texture.

Terrwyn instantly saw shades of green behind her closed eyes. She soon learned that these visions had everything to do with Feredir, who he was and where he was from, but how she did not understand yet. It didn’t matter now. She was finally experiencing Feredir for whom he really was and this was incomparable to anything she had ever experienced. Inside this tough stubborn elf was a lover who would show her what it could be like to be wanted and needed. He was someone who would give her everything and take nothing for himself, for that is what would please him most. And in return, she could give him what he longed for, her complete attention.

She brought her arms up and wrapped them around his neck, her hands greedily grasping at his thick mane. Terrwyn deepened the kiss this time, letting him know that she acted on her own, that she wanted him. Tongues circled and flicked before Feredir released her and his lips moved along her jaw to her neck and lower to her shoulder. Her skin felt hot against his lips. He wanted more of her and his hands traveled up her arms and around her back. He pulled her to him, holding her as if he would never again release her. He was still aroused, the evidence very prominent against Terrwyn’s thigh. The soft mounds of her breasts pushed against his chest. Feredir needed more than just this though. He wanted to know her better, understand her thoughts, learn what made her happy, but there were still many obstacles in their way. She would leave soon for Rohan and he needed to see his mother before she sailed. The moment that had just proven their feelings for each other came crashing around him. The reality was, he could not be with Terrwyn without involving his heart, yet the chance that they would ever see each other again after she left were slim.

Terrwyn’s eyes met his silver grey pools. She smiled shyly. “This is nice. This is what I had imagined.”

His smile disappeared and he took her hands in his. “You will leave soon. Winter is coming to a close and your people will come for you.”

It was not what she wanted to hear now, but it was the truth. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“Terrwyn, I have never met someone that makes me feel like you do. The last thing I want to do is lose you so soon,” he admitted.

“So you are running away again,” she said disappointed.

“I fear if we take this much further, my heart will become involved and I cannot afford that kind of pain right now.” He released her and took a step back. “I must go back to Mirkwood. My mother, she means to sail soon, but she will not leave before I return. And you . . . this tribunal hangs over your head. Do you know what it would mean if I give you my heart and then never see you again?”

Terrwyn hadn’t thought of all these prospects. Feredir seemed so human to her and she forgot sometimes that he still lived by elvish rules. He was a Peredhil and had an important choice to make. “I don’t want to hurt you, Feredir. Perhaps you are right.” She lowered her head. “I cannot give you my flesh without also giving you my heart.”

Feredir felt her pain. He reached out to her but she shook her head, refusing his touch. “I can’t do this with you. Too many times have we walked this path only to come to a complete halt. I know you are not running away from me this time. You have explained yourself quite well, but it doesn’t change the way I feel about you.” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “I need more from you, but you cannot give it without losing a part of who you are. I would never ask this from you.”

“Terrwyn I--.”

She put a hand up to stop him. “No, please.” She turned back to face the workbench. “I need a break from this work. I’m going upstairs to rest. This can wait.” It took all she had not to let her voice waver with the flood of tears she was holding back. With that said Terrwyn hurried off upstairs, entered her room and locked the door behind her. She sat on the edge of her bed, pondering her thoughts. So much had happened to her in her young life. Disappointment was becoming a familiar guest. She quietly cursed the chestnut elf from her childhood. “If I hadn’t ever met him, maybe my life would have turned out much different. Maybe I would not have always wondered about the elves. Now I find that they are too complicated for a simple girl from Rohan. I was a fool to ever think I could live amongst them or even love one of them.” She curled up on her bed and closed her eyes.

Sometime later, how long she did not know, there was a gently knocking on her door. Terrwyn had no idea how long it had been since she laid down. Maybe Limil had come to visit her or bring her something to eat. She got up and went to the door, unlocking it. Before she could ask who it was someone was pushing through. Terrwyn jumped back, slightly irritated by the invasion until she saw who it was. Feredir stood there, tall and dark, handsome beyond anyone she had ever set eyes upon. His silver eyes shined with a new energy. His lips parted as if to say something, but no word came out. He went to her and grabbed her by the waist, lifting her feet from the floor. Before she could protest, he covered her mouth with his own, kissing her deep with wanton passion. Finally, he released her so she could breathe.

She searched his face and his eyes for some answer. “Feredir, what--?”

He shushed her then scooped her up in his strong elvish arms. “No more games.” He walked to her bed.

“But what about--?” She was interrupted by another sensual kiss. Then she was thrown onto the bed. She instantly sat up on her elbows and watched as he crawled onto the bed.

“We’ll figure this out as we go along,” he said. “All I know is that I want you Terrwyn. I want you with me. You will not slip through my fingers this time.” Now he was hovering above her, his long black hair surrounding them both.

Terrwyn was almost frightened of him. His power over her was intense as his eyes bared down upon her body, scanning every inch of her. Unable to find her voice, she merely nodded her acceptance before her words came out in nothing more than a whisper. “Yes, Feredir yes.”

His smile was predatory grin as he closed the distance between them until he was covering her with his body. He kissed her lips, her neck, her bare shoulder. He remembered the stained skirt and knew she would have no more use for this dress. The elf sat up on his knees, straddling her hips. Determined hands grasped at the neckline and ripped the top in half, exposing her round breasts. Her nipples instantly hardened as the coolness of the air washed over them.

Feredir’s hands slowly covered her tits, feeling her for the first time in the palm of his hands. He glanced at her face, which was a combination of confusion and want. He smiled, this time with more longing. “Beautiful,” he sighed and leaned down, covering her breast with is mouth. So long had he imagined feel of her velvety flesh, the very taste of her upon his tongue. He gave the same attention to the other one, then ran his tongue between her breasts, up her chest and came back to kiss her again.

The feel of his warm mouth on her breasts was almost too much and she ached for him. A whimper escaped her lips, signaling to Feredir her readiness. He did not want to move too quickly though. They must savor every moment of this first time.

Terrwyn noticed that somewhere along the way to her room, he must have gotten rid of his guards tunic for all he wore now was a shirt and leggings. While he hovered above, kissing her passionately, her fingers undid his buttons and soon she felt the smooth flesh of his bare chest. Oh, but he was magnificent. Every muscle was alive, hardened and quivering. He showed immense strength as he held himself back from ravishing her and spending himself quickly, though she would not complain if he did.

Now that Terrwyn started undressing him, Feredir got up from the bed and stood at the foot. He eased the shirt from his shoulders letting it pool on the floor. Terrwyn sat up and moved to the end of the bed, her legs folded beneath her. He stood there for her while she ran her hands over his chest and stomach. She noticed his scars right away and was surprised to see them. They must have been from past battles, maybe some from the war at the end of the Third Age, the one that took place while she was in Helm’s Deep as a child. It did not seem to bother him that she paid extra attention to the white raised flesh. He even seemed to wear them proudly, as if a rite of passage. It excited her to think of Feredir in the midst of battle. She had seen his anger and knew how dangerous he could be.

Now her fingers fumbled at the waistband of his leggings. There was a definite bulge and she could hardly wait to see what the material kept hidden. She took the ends of the laces in her fingers and glanced up at Feredir before going any further. His eyes were wild with desire, his lips parting in anticipation of what was to come. Terrwyn smiled and pulled the strings, then worked the rest of the laces loose. She folded the flaps of his leggings down and revealed a line of black fuzz that ran from his navel and beneath the cloth. Her hand reached out to feel the softness of it, compact in a straight line. The bulge beneath his pants jumped at her touch. She had to laugh at herself for it felt like unwrapping a gift that she’d waited so long for. This was the first time she was seeing Feredir and she wanted to relish every moment, every first sight, every first sensation. This was the elf she’d waited for.

Her hands slipped inside the material and slowly brought it down until his arousal was fully exposed. Terrwyn gasped for he was magnificently endowed. He was fully erect and beautiful to behold. She’d had many dreams of this moment, but he was beyond compare to anything she could have conjured in her mind. She licked her lips and looked up to see Feredir watching her, proud of himself for the reaction he caused. He reached for her face and brushed some loose hair behind her ear. Then he reached for her waist and the top of her skirt.

“Let’s get you out of that dress,” he whispered seductively and Terrwyn pushed down what was left of it. With the top ripped in half, the rest of the dress came off easily. Feredir grabbed the end of the skirt and pulled until it was in his hands. Then he threw it haphazardly across the room where it landed on the corner of the washstand. He took Terrwyn by her hand and made her stand from the bed. He leaned back slightly so he could observe her in all her naked glory. His heart raced as he looked upon her fair white skin, rounded hips and full breasts. She was absolutely everything he imagined.

For the first time, they could feel each other’s naked flesh without restriction. Feredir pulled her to him, her breasts pushing against his chest. His hardened cock pressed into her belly, pulsating and his hips ground against her. Their lips touched once more, this time with more greed. Terrwyn was on fire and her skin came alive wherever they made contact. She felt a yearning between her legs that she had never experienced in all her life. Her center ached and thrummed along with her heartbeat. Her blood raced through her veins. She did not feel quite herself and wondered what Feredir felt.

His hands had traveled down her back, coming to rest on her backside where he squeezed her rounded rump. He pulled her to him, crushing her against his body. Then he eased a hand to her front, feeling her moist curls, as red as the hair on her head. Terrwyn’s response was to lift one leg and wrap it around his thigh. She made his access easy and Feredir accepted the invitation. His fingers fondled her folds, but there was no reason to spread her moisture. She was already bathed in her own essence, her body ready to accept him. He slid an eager finger into her body, making her gasp.

Terrwyn was so close. She almost came when his fingers touched her. She could hardly stand up anymore. There was no more time to wait. “I want you now, Feredir.” Her words were hot against his neck. Then she sucked the skin into her mouth to further coax him to do her bidding.

Feredir wasted no more time and reached for her other thigh, lifting her off the ground so that she straddled his hips. He wanted her badly and could contain his carnal lust no longer. “You stir something deep within me, Terrwyn. I must warn you, I may not be a gentle lover.”

Terrwyn smiled a wicked grin. “I had hoped for such. Make love to me, Feredir. Give to me the one thing I have longed for. Show me the ways of the elves.”

With that, Feredir lifted her by the waist until he was at her entrance. Then he slid into her body with one thrust. Terrwyn yelled out as she adjusted to his girth. He touched every part of her, pushed so deep that he touched her innermost wall. It was a mixture of pleasure and pain to be filled so deep. Stars burst behind her closed eyes. She almost thought she could not handle the feel much longer when he finally backed out.

He moved them so that he was kneeling on the mattress of her bed, still holding her straddled to his waist and still buried within her. Feredir started thrusting again and this time she knew what to expect. Terrwyn wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him and moaning with every thrust, but he wanted to show her more. He wanted her to feel his power and make her trust him. Feredir unfurled her arms. “Lean back,” he demanded.

Terrwyn looked at him confused. “Trust me, I will not let you drop. Now lean back.” His hands grasped her high on her waist, just under her ribcage. Her muscles tensed as she leaned away from him, legs still wrapped around his hips. Her hands squeezed his arms, nails almost digging into his flesh. She looked terrified, the opposite affect he hoped this position would have. “You said you wanted to see the ways of the elves. Let me show you. Give yourself to me. Trust that I will not harm you.”

She started to relax. The only thing keeping her from falling onto the bed was Feredir’s firm hands on her waist. Then he started moving within her again. Terrwyn’s whole body became more nimble as he slid in and out of her wetness. She smiled at how magical this felt, as if she were falling or flying, which one she could not tell just yet. Feredir, kneeling on the bed and holding Terrwyn, pounded harder, deeper and faster. Terrwyn still had a firm grip on his arms. “Release your hands. Let yourself be free of fear and just feel me inside you.”

She slowly loosened her grip until she was no longer holding him. In this position, his deep thrusts did not hurt. As a matter of fact, they made her pant and moan as her orgasm overtook her. Feredir held her parallel to the bed, hanging in midair while he made love to her, sliding in and out, his own desire very close. His hips thrust forward at a quicker pace.

Terrwyn was in complete ecstasy. A smile formed on her face as she yelled with pleasure each time he plunged within her. She stretched out her arms as Feredir made her feel weightless hovering above the bed like this.

He looked down to watch her expression as she came. She was in complete bliss and Feredir smiled to himself just before he felt himself reach orgasm. Terrwyn shouted his name, almost laughing and in complete euphoria. The elf smiled as well, knowing he accomplished his ultimate goal. Then he let out a primal scream as his seed emptied into her. Again, he went deep until he was completely surrounded by her contracting muscles.

His cock pulsated within her body, touching parts that she never knew existed. Every inch of her screamed as she came. The intensity of it continued longer than she’d ever felt before. Suddenly, she was being pulled up to Feredir’s chest. She collapsed against him, burying her face in his neck, still moaning as her orgasm was not quite done. The strong elf lowered her to the bed, pulled from her body and came to rest at her side. Terrwyn turned to face him. He looked so peaceful at that moment with his eyes closed and his expression completely relaxed. There was even a slight smile still spread across his lips. He was truly magical, she thought and he made love like the elves. There was nothing Gondorian about this side of him.

He reached out and touched the side of her face. “Everything about you is so beautiful. When I am with you I feel like belong.”

“You do belong. You belong with me,” she said, eyes half closed, exhausted from their recent activity.

Feredir laughed quietly. “Sleep now, Naru.” He watched as she closed her eyes.

Almost completely asleep, Terrwyn spoke once more. “Feredir?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.” It was the last thing she whispered before she fell into her dream world, and the first time she had ever said that to someone.

Feredir did not answer her, but he wondered if he could had she been awake. He knew he was taking a chance by being with her. Their futures were so unstable, but for now, he knew there was nowhere else in the world he would rather be.


	37. Lost Trinkets, Old Wounds

The sun had not yet come up when Feredir woke. Next to him lay Terrwyn, exhausted after their first time making love. Love, he thought. She had told him she loved him just before her dreams cast over her. Would she remember? Did she even know what she admitted?

He thought about what they had experienced. He could have blamed it on the throws of passions, said it was the heat of the moment, but that would be a lie. He tried to walk away, but found himself at her bedroom door. Never before had he wanted someone so badly. There had been other women in his life, some more special than others, but none who made him feel as he did with Terrwyn. All he wanted to do was protect her, be with her constantly. Was this what love felt like he wondered? 

Terrwyn stirred and Feredir turned to face her. By the gods she was beautiful, so delicate and lovely in her sleep, but so fiery and determined when awake. She had a mind of her own, a very stubborn one at times. He did not know why he felt so compelled to please her, to make her happy. Maybe it was because she hadn’t had much happiness in her life. Neither had he. In that way they were very much alike.

Terrwyn turned and rolled onto her side. She was slowly waking up. What then? Where would they go from here? Was there even enough time left to sort things out? What if her tribunal went horribly wrong and she was--.

Feredir couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence. No, he could not let things get that far. He needed to help her, protect her from that outcome, but how? What could he do to ensure her comfort and safety? Then he remembered something, something very important.

Feredir quietly got out of her bed. He searched the floor for his leggings, but could not find them. He knew they had to be here somewhere. They hadn’t even left the bed last night. Terrwyn moaned and moved again. He had to get back before she woke. He looked around the room. The sheet had come off the bed and lay on the floor. Terrwyn was covered by a blanket, so he took the sheet and wrapped it around his waist. He tiptoed to the door and went out, carefully closing it behind him.

Terrwyn stirred again and blinked her eyes. She was a little sore but overall she felt refreshed. A smile spread as she thought about Feredir. He wanted her trust and she gave that to him freely. His name on her lips made her heart sing. He was absolutely wonderful and he was--.

She reached out to his side of the bed. He was not there. “Feredir?” she called quietly, hoping he was just looking out of a window, but he was not in the room. Terrwyn’s smile disappeared. Ran away again, she thought. Of course he did. He would never stay in one place for too long. She should have known. She should have never told him she loved him. Now he was gone.

* * *

Meanwhile, Feredir slipped quietly down the stairs. He made his way to the back room where the door led out to the garden. It was here somewhere. It had to be, he told himself. He remembered tossing it and . . . bottles, yes, he had heard bottles. On a table next to the back door was a row of empty ones. Feredir searched frantically in the dark, knocking them over with his free hand. The other one was holding the sheet around his waist. His shirtless chest glowed in the light of a single lit candle he had brought with him. He reached and searched, cursing under his breath when his fingers felt something. He grabbed it and held it next to the flame. “There you are,” he smiled. Feredir had found the wooden butterfly. He looked at it for a moment. How could he have forgotten? He had been so excited to give it to her, but then he saw her with his brother. Foolishness, that’s all that was. It would not happen again. He held the butterfly tight in his hand and turned to head back towards the stairs, but stopped when he heard someone.

“Whoever is back there better come out right now or I swear I will--.” A candelabra lifted above someone’s head. “Feredir, is that you?” It was Limil. “I heard a commotion back here and was afraid it--.” She stopped again as she realized how the young elf was dressed. “Why are you here so early? And why are you wearing just a sheet?” As soon as she spoke and saw the smile on Feredir’s face, it dawned on her exactly what was going on. The Healer’s wife smiled shyly and had the lighting been better, her blushing face would have been more prominent. “You . . . never left. Oh my, well this is a predicament now isn’t it?”

“I . . . well, I was . . .,” he stuttered trying to answer her.

“It is Terrwyn isn’t it?” she asked just to make sure her assumptions were correct.

Feredir held the sheet tighter around his middle. “I know this breaks all sorts of rules about the duties of a guard, and I--.”

Limil laughed. “It is alright, Feredir. Your secret is safe with me. Actually, I am quite pleased to know you two have finally reconciled. It was only a matter of time before the two of you . . . well, you know.” She smiled and glanced at the sheet.

Now it was Feredir’s turn to darken a few shades of pink. “I’m sorry to have woken you. I just remembered something I needed to return to Terrwyn and it could not wait another moment.”

Limil made a shooing gesture with her hand. “Go on then. Get back up there before she misses you. Just tell me one thing, Feredir. It this real . . . for you . . . does it have meaning?”

Was this real? He repeated the words in his mind. There hadn’t been much time to think about it. He nodded. “I think so. I think it is.”

Limil walked to Feredir and he clasped the sheet even tighter. It was awkward talking to the lady of the house with naught on but a bed sheet. She cupped the side of his face. “My dear boy, to think something exists is not the same as knowing. To think it is so is no different from guessing. Look to your heart and there you will find your answer. So I’ll ask you again. Is . . . this . . . real.” She ended by touching her finger to his chest where his heart lay.

Limil had forced him to take a closer look at the situation. When he thought about her question this time, his heart swelled in his chest. This time he nodded with full confidence. “Yes, this is very real, Limil, very real indeed.”

She smiled while pulling her hand away. “Good, very good. Now go . . . and hurry.”

Feredir watched Limil as she went back to her room. She was the wisest person he had ever met and he respected her opinion more now than ever. “Thank you Lady Limil.”

Without turning, Limil waved from down the hall and kept walking to her and Curuven’s bedchamber.

Feredir bound upstairs to Terrwyn’s room, a new spring in his light footsteps. He quietly opened the door so as not to wake her. Then he walked softly on elvish feet to her bed. Her back was turned to him and he thought she still slept until he heard a hushed whimper. She was crying. But why, he asked himself. Why after this night of consummation and passionate perfection would she be crying?

Forgetting about the little butterfly, he carelessly dropped it onto the bed. He reached out, letting his long fingers graze her bare shoulder. Terrwyn jumped, unaware that anyone was in the room. “Feredir?” she asked, her voice choking on her sobs.

“Naru, my sweet, why are you crying?” he asked compassionately.

“I . . .” She hesitated, suddenly feeling foolish. “I thought you left.”

“Well, I did leave, but I came right back. I thought you were sleeping and--.”

Terrwyn flew up and wrapped her arms around his neck. She could not stop crying, only now they were tears of joy. “I thought you left, that you meant not to return.”

Feredir pried her from his neck and forced her to look at him. “I am not going anywhere ever again, not if I can help it. I am here with you always because I . . .” He paused, thinking of his conversation with Limil. In that moment, he no longer guessed his feelings. He knew and was never more aware of them. “I am still here because I love you, Terrwyn.”

She was half-smiling, half-frowning, tears streaking her lovely face. “I love you too, Feredir,” she said between sobs.

Feredir laughed. “I know I have been an ass, but is loving me so painful?”

Terrwyn laughed and sniffed, trying to get in control. “Yes, yes it is, but I will just have to get used to it won’t I?”

Feredir closed the distance and kissed her. Then he held her face in his hands and captured her eyes. “You’ve got me, Naru. You have all of me. I do not know what our futures hold, but you will not lose me and I will not let you go. I would fight for you until my dying breath and your name would be the last thing my lips would whisper. And even then it would still be the sweetest thing my tongue has ever tasted.” He kissed her again and pulled the sheet from his body.

Terrwyn laid back into the pillows and relished in the feel of Feredir’s body crushing her into the mattress. They kissed, tongues swirling and their breathing became heavy. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he slowly entered her body with his hardened desire. As he pushed into her, she arched her back and moaned. Feredir watched the ecstasy on her face as he set his rhythm. Faster and harder, he pumped into her. The little wooden butterfly bounced to the edge of the bed and fell to the floor, landing upright as if it was ready to take flight. Cries of passion and joy echoed around the small bedroom when they came together as one entity. It would be late in the morning before either would wake again. They wrapped themselves around each other in a tight cocoon, knowing they were safe, warm and together.

* * *

She dreamed of a lush green forest, ferns growing beneath the thick canopy. There was a presence nearby. This time when she turned, Feredir stood with is arms outstretched waiting to catch her. Part of her dream had been revealed to her. The presence was this elf who now lay beside her. Still, she wondered about the forest and what it meant. It somehow no longer seemed important to her. Feredir was here now and he was real. His love was real. With him by her side, she could face any fear, any challenge.

Terrwyn awoke to the feel of sweet kisses on her arm. She rolled over and faced Feredir. He smiled at her. “Beautiful,” he whispered again. She started to blush, but forgot about her embarrassment as she watched her elf offer her his closed fist. “Close your eyes, Naru.” She looked at him questioningly. “Go on, close them.”

Terrwyn smiled and did as he asked. It felt like forever before he spoke again. “Open them now Naru,” he said.

She opened her eyes and looked down to find his fist open, palm up and something very familiar, very precious sitting there as if it had always been there. She gasped and smiled. “My butterfly, but where . . . when . . . How did you come to have it?”

“Do you remember when you told me about your journey to Gondor?” he asked and she nodded. “I listened to you. I memorized every word and every detail of your story. Then, when I was on my mission to meet with the scouts and retrieve the letter for my Captain, I suddenly found myself in a very familiar place. I was there in your story. The trees and the bushes, it all came flooding back to me and I followed your words. They led me right to that campsite. There were even ashes remaining in the place where you built a fire. From your words, I followed you as if you were a ghost. And then . . . there it was, waiting for someone to find it and bring it home . . . to you.”

Terrwyn took the butterfly from his hand, turning it and looking at it closely. “I have had this since I was a child. I thought it was gone forever.” She wrapped her fingers around it and brought her eyes up to meet his. “And you went out of your way, just on a hunch.”

“I am sorry I did not give it to you sooner but with all that happened upon my return and--.” He was cut off by her hungry mouth devouring his.

Terrwyn carefully placed the butterfly on her side table and then turned back to Feredir, sultry green eyes shining wildly. She pushed him so he was lying on his back. Then her leg slid across his thighs and she straddled his body. As she leaned down, her breasts crushed onto his chest, her kisses on his neck setting him on fire. Feredir hardened instantly and Terrwyn slid back engulfing him until he was deep inside her body. She sat up and set to riding him, holding back her own desire until he was roused and his body thrummed beneath her. Not a wave, but an entire ocean washed over him as he came, this beautiful seductress milking his body of all its elvish energy. Terrwyn collapsed beside him, watching the way his chest heaved out of breath. He closed his eyes and let a light reverie take over, needing to recharge. Terrwyn lay quietly next to him, studying every inch of his exquisite body. When he had time to rest, he rolled onto his side, facing her, the sheet draped low across his hips.

Terrwyn traced a finger along his exposed side observing a very long scar that ran from the bottom of his ribcage down his side to the top of his pelvis. “What happened to you?” she asked curiously.

“Just an old battle wound. An orc tried to slice me in half,” he said, twirling a piece of her red hair.

“It looks as though it must have been very painful.” Terrwyn touched the scar, a blemish to his perfection.

“My pride hurt more than the wound,” he commented and she looked at him curiously. “I was out on my first mission, first time to fight a real battle. I was separated from my partner and came upon three orcs. The first two were no match and I took them down quickly. The third was a little more cunning. We fought each other for a long while it seemed. I thought I had him, but he used an elvish move on me, distracting me and I played right into it. That’s when he gave me this scar.”

Terrwyn listened intently. “How did you get away?”

“My brother was there . . . again. He slayed the creature and got me to a healer before the poison set in too deep. Orthorien was always there no matter what I did, always looking over my shoulder. This was my first time to prove to him that I could take care of myself and I almost died.” Feredir paused, a far off look on his face.

“You were very lucky then that he was there and got you treated.” Terrwyn scooted closer to him, nuzzling her face against his chest.

“Lucky for me, yes. Then he took me out of the patrol and sent me back to the palace where I was placed on guard duty. He said I wasn’t ready, but I knew I was. That’s when I knew I would never be free of my brother. He was our captain and when we were on duty, he had complete rule over me.” Feredir rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, remembering those days in Mirkwood, growing up as a Peredhil amongst many very proud Wood elves. “You see, Orthorien was always my protector. He was well past his majority by the time I was born. His father was killed in battle while our mother carried me. So when I came into this world, Orthorien promised our mother that he would help raise me, step in as any older brother might have done. The life of a warrior was all he ever knew, so he placed those same values on me. But it was our mother who taught me that there was more than the life of a soldier.”

Terrwyn ran her fingers through his thick hair, moving it away from his ears so she could observe their uniqueness. “It must have been very difficult growing up being half-elven.”

“There were always those who sought to make me feel inferior. Orthorien would change that. He started training me at an early age, at first alone, just the two of us. Later, I joined the others in training, but my brother was always there. I was teased for that, constantly reminded of my anomaly.”

To hear him talk about his heritage this way made Terrwyn cringe. “I do not think you are a rarity. Look at the Queen of Gondor. She is Peredhil and has even given up her immortal life to marry the King.”

“Queen Arwen comes from a long line of very influential elves with royal bloodlines. Their half-elven blood runs long and deep in that family. I did not have the luck of being born into such a prominent family. My mother was a barterer for King Thranduil. My father was a textile merchant in Gondor. She was negotiating trade with him on the King’s behalf when they met. I was just part of the bargain.”

Terrwyn sat up on her elbow and watched Feredir. She had never seen him more vulnerable than at that moment. “Surely you do not see yourself as such.”

“It is hard not too when reminded of this all my years in Mirkwood, so I set out to prove them all wrong. I worked hard and trained long hours until I made my place amongst the other soldiers. I went above Orthorien’s head and asked to be placed in a battalion separate from his. I tried very hard to claim my independence. And then the Ring war came about. Orthorien was promoted and I was once again under his thumb. I played by his rules until I felt I was not being used properly as a soldier. My talents were being wasted because he feared I was not ready. A great host marched upon us from Dol Guldur. I was ready to take my place amongst my Mirkwood warriors. Orthorien tried to push me back to a safer position, but I decided to take things into my own hands and went off to fight my own war. I knew I was breaking the rules, but I did not care. I was fighting for myself, for my home and its people. After the battle, I felt I had proven myself to my fellow troops and I had. Orthorien saw things differently. We argued long and hard, but in the end, he stripped me of my duties and never acknowledged my accomplishments. Even my peers felt he was unfair in his actions. I had no choice but to conform to his commands. My hatred towards him grew silently, but what could I do? Where could I go? Lothlorien would not take me. They already had reserves against my kinsmen. They would not tolerate a half-elven soldier from Mirkwood. I grew distant from my family, something I regret doing to my mother, but I felt I had no other choice. And then one day, Prince Legolas announced the development of a new colony in Ithilien. I agreed to go without speaking to anyone, not even my mother. That was the first time I made her cry, when I told her I was leaving our home. I hated that, but I had no other alternative. Orthorien would never concede that I was his equal. He would always see me as different, unable to prove my worthiness. Even some of those who teased me during my youth saw my talent and accepted me. It was Orthorien’s approval I always craved, the one thing I would never have. So I left, and here I am today.”

Terrwyn thought about the scene Feredir came upon when he returned and saw her with Orthorien. She had no idea he felt this way about his brother. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I never meant to cause any more pain between you and Orthorien.”

“It’s alright. You did not know. I still would have tried to stop you though, even if I hadn’t had feelings towards you. Orthorien plays a very smooth game. You deserved more than what he could offer you.”

She smiled, settling back against his warm body. “I have you now if only for a little while.” Her tone changed with these words to one of solemnness.

“I will not stop searching for an answer to your problem. There is someone out there that holds the key to your innocence,” he said determinedly.

“You saw the letter, Feredir. The one man who could have testified on my behalf has died. There is no one else.”

“Then I will go to your home and turn Rohan upside down until I find someone that has an answer. I will threaten the very lives of these men who lied for their own protection.” His voice rose in anger and she felt him tense.

“You cannot. It would cause a rift between Rohan and Ithilien and I know you would not see that happen,” she answered calmly.

Feredir moved quicker than Terrwyn could ever have imagined, pinning her to the bed. He looked deep into her eyes, silver pools on fire once again. “Then I will abandon my life here in Ithilien. I will take you and we will go far from here where we will never be found. I will do whatever it takes to keep you with me, Naru. I made you a promise to never let you go, and I mean to keep my word.”

Before Terrwyn could protest, Feredir plunged into her roughly, a sudden animalistic lust taking him over. He held her down as he forced himself upon her. She did not complain and merely let him have his way. It was intoxicating to be under his spell, that hidden danger always on the edge of his consciousness. This was his elvishness. This was what she longed for and she knew she would never be able to resist him again.


	38. Life of a Solider

Feredir and Terrwyn came down the stairs arm in arm. They approached the bottom and he took her in his strong hold, leaning her back in a slight dip and kissing her. She wrapped her fingers in his thick black hair and sighed when he released her from his hold. Their eyes met in a stare that seemed to last a century. Terrwyn was completely swept off her feet by this elf. She hadn’t thought about much since last night, a well-deserved break from her regularly chaotic life. How she wished she could forget everything and let Feredir become her new world. That was not possible though and the look on Master Curuven’s face further solidified that thought. The Healer was waiting for them it seemed. He held a letter in his hand and regarded Feredir with a solemn face that said it wasn’t good news. Feredir released Terrwyn, giving her one more glance then turned to the Healer.

“This came for you not long ago. It is from the Captain.” Curuven held the letter out to the young elf who slowly reached for it. The yellowed parchment had a wax seal with the symbol of the Ithilien army embedded upon it.

Feredir knew what was in the note. It was the last thing he and Glandur discussed before he left his office that day. He broke the seal and unfolded the paper. At the top in bold letters it said, “Notice of Reinstatement”. He was being called back on patrol. His hand slowly lowered to his side. Terrwyn looked at him curiously.

“What does it say?” she asked reaching out and touching his shoulder. He turned and handed her the letter.

“I have been called back to the border.” His eyes remained glued to the floor in front of him as a disappointed smile forced its way across his lips “For so long I have wanted nothing but to get back to my troops, to get my hands soiled and my blood pounding with the excitement of battle. It is what I do. It is what I have always done.” Feredir reached out and touched the side of Terrwyn’s face. “And after just one night, I find that it is far from the thing I want most.”

A tear came to Terrwyn’s eye. “But you are my guard.” Of course, he was more to her than that now, but these were the only words she could manage to speak.

Curuven walked to her, standing by her side. “Tis the life of a soldier, my dear. He has been called upon. His skills are needed. He must go.”

“But what if my people come for me, will I not see you again?” she asked. Try as she might, she could not quell the panic in her voice.

Feredir wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. She heard his heart beating; felt it beat in time to her own heart. “I promise to be here,” he reassured her. Then he pulled away from her, leaned down and kissed her as if it were their last moments together. His love strengthened Terrwyn as she felt it flow though her body. She could not forget her past or run away from the present, but she could still try to control her future. Feredir helped her to forget about this if only for a short while, but there were parts that she could not afford to ignore.

One last glance, one last kiss and Feredir was off to prepare and join his troops at Ithilien’s borders.

* * *

“It is good to see you again, my friend,” Horphen exclaimed as his friend and battle companion joined the gathering army. He gave Feredir a firm pat on the back and smiled warmly.

Feredir returned the smile, but something was missing. The fire he normally had in his eyes seemed less bright and Horphen noticed this right away. “It is good to be back,” Feredir replied unconvincingly.

“Aye, my friend, your words do not match your heart,” Horphen said calling him out. 

Feredir was about to protest when someone called out his name. He knew that voice and cringed, closing his eyes and feeling his strength leave him. The young elf spoke as he turned around. “Orthorien, shouldn’t you have left by now? Seems to me you have overstayed your welcome.”

“Maybe to you it would seem so, but as for your lord, the Prince, I am welcome for as long as I like.” The golden elf spoke with an exaggerated swagger.

Horphen gave Feredir a reassuring pat and left him alone with his brother. He knew of the rift between them and had no desire to play witness to it. Feredir stood tall and firm. This was his home, his army. Orthorien was the outsider now. “Come to see me off then?” he said dryly.

Orthorien smiled. “You seem different, brother. I have seen this look before, but never from you,” he said as he circled Feredir. “Ah yes, so it seems you took my advice. You have claimed the girl for yourself.”

“I took no one’s advice, least of all yours,” Feredir answered defensively. He glanced down taking notice of the way Orthorien was dressed. “Why do you wear our armor? What have you talked your way into?”

The older brother laughed. “I needn’t talk my way into anything, little brother. Prince Legolas asked of my services, and while I would rather be comfortably sated in the bed of some fair maid, I cannot deny the King’s son. I come to join the army. It seems there have been sightings of a band of Easterlings away on the outskirts. They head this way now, a line of wagons carrying men and weapons. They will be ready to fight as soon as they are close enough.”

Feredir glared at his brother and then looked past him to his friend Horphen, who shrugged his shoulders. It seemed there was nothing he could do to change this outcome. “Just stay out of my way,” he growled at Orthorien.

* * *

Everyone was on guard as they waited for the approaching Easterlings. Night had crept in and the lights on their wagons could be seen off in the distance. Feredir stood alongside Horphen, bows ready in their hands and swords at their sides.

“They will not attack at night,” said their troop’s leader. “They know we have the advantage in the dark, but come morning with the sun’s rising, they will be ready.” He walked back and forth speaking to his battalion. “We need to keep watch, should they try anything. We’ll take shifts.” He chose his first men to keep watch, Feredir, Horphen and some others that were close by. One of those was Orthorien.

“Reminds me of days of old, does it not, brother?” Orthorien called to Feredir. “How many nights did we sit at the borders in Mirkwood, patrolling long into the night?”

“More than my fair share,” Feredir answered. His brother used to deliberately set him up as watchman instead of allowing him to join the troops in his younger days.

The black haired elf took his spot in a tree near the edge of camp. The elves built platforms high in the trees for such use. Each one could hold two men. They were camouflaged to look like part of the tree so approaching enemies would not see the lookouts, but the elves could see their enemy long before they got near Ithilien’s border.

Horphen joined Feredir on the platform. His friend had been unusually quiet since meeting him at the gathering. “Is everything alright, Feredir?”

“It would be much better had Orthorien never arrived. I thought my days of living under his thumb were over.”

“I remember how difficult a time he gave you growing up. Why has he come to Ithilien? I never expected him to come this far,” Horphen asked.

Feredir sighed as he inspected the fletching of his arrows. “It is our mother. She has announced her calling. She means to sail soon.”

“Oh,” Horphen answered quietly. “Then you must be going back to Mirkwood soon.”

“Yes, before too long I will need to go, but--.” Feredir stopped himself from sharing any more information. However, this did not detour Horphen’s curiosity.

“I know what stops you. I felt it from you before and I still feel it now. You have given your heart over to someone.” Horphen patted Feredir’s shoulder. “It’s alright you know. It happens to the best of us.”

Feredir smiled. “Everyone but you, my friend.”

“That is because I am too smart to let myself become tied to one elleth. Knowing you though, she is the most alluring creature on this green earth.”

“That she is, Horphen. That she is.” Feredir let his thoughts of Terrwyn simmer in the back of his mind while he watched the torches in the distance.

A little while later, Horphen went to the ground to take care of some personal matters. Feredir remained on the platform, contemplating exactly what would happen next with him and Terrwyn. How could he keep her from going to Rohan and facing this judgment? Where could he find evidence to her innocence? It seemed as though he was out of answers.

“May I join you?” said a voice from the edge of the platform. Orthorien lifted himself up and joined his brother. Feredir did not answer him. His opinion would not matter now.

The brothers sat in uncomfortable silence. Black and gold, they were a contrast to each other, though their features were similar. They both took after their mother’s familiar appearance, but only Orthorien had her eyes. Feredir had his father’s silver eyes, another thing that set him apart from the wood elves. Those eyes now shined in the moonlight as they peered out over the lands.

Finally, Orthorien spoke. “I did not come here to make your life miserable. We had an agreement when you left Mirkwood that I would never again interfere. I mean to keep my part.”

“I thought you would have left by now is all. I never expected you to be here, that is certain.”

“I am only here because the Prince asked me.” Orthorien let the silence flow back in between them for a while before he spoke again. “Mother will be glad to see you. Though she did not show it, I could tell how greatly she missed you when you left. The two of you always did seem to have a special bond, one that I could not share in.”

“She was a bit overprotective is all,” Feredir answered, thinking about his youth. “I imagine it was her idea after all to keep me away from danger as long as possible.”

“Well, yes she did have a hand in that, but I feared for you both. I knew if something happened to me, she would go on. But if something happened to you, I truly believe she would have faded.”

“Do not speak of such,” Feredir whispered. That same thought had crossed his mind many times during his young life. It was something he did not want to revisit, but now he could see its importance. “She expects me to sail one day, to take the life of the elves.”

“Yes, and you have reassured her many times that you would take this path. Have your feelings changed, Feredir?” Orthorien could feel his brother’s reserve.

“No . . . well I don’t . . .” Feredir stuttered.

“And what about the girl,” Orthorien answered for him. 

Feredir’s protective wall secured itself quickly. “Terrwyn is none of your concern.”

“It is my concern when it involves our mother. Do you know what it will do to her spirit should she sail and you do not? She will look for you endlessly. It matters not what I tell her. She will always long for her half-blood son and she will not rest even in Valinor,” Orthorien said with a raised voice.

“Mother is stronger than you give her credit for,” Feredir shot back. “But no one ever seems to live up to your standards do they? She was strong enough to stand up to your father and seek a life outside of their confined home. She was strong enough to raise me and ignore the ridicule.”

“She is strong because she has always known you would be there in the end,” Orthorien said defending his opinion. “She is strong, yes, but what about you? The first woman to come along and touch your heart and you are ready to abandon your kin.”

“And since when do you care, Orthorien. All my life I have tried to fit in, tried to make my place in the world. Mother sought to protect me, but even you had your doubts,” Feredir argued.

Orthorien shook his head and looked at the platform between his knees. “I wanted to make you forget your human heritage. Mother always reminded you of it. I told her you should not have joined the new colony in Ithilien. As long as you were with the elves, you could not be influenced by men. She told me to let you find your way and so I made my promise not only to you but also to her. Now I see I was right. Living amongst men has made you more like them, so much so that you would forget where you really belong.”

Feredir’s anger reached new heights with this information. “Where I belong? And do you think I ever belonged in Mirkwood? Do you think the elves ever accepted me as anything more than half-elven?” Feredir got up from the floor of the platform and towered above his brother. “I never belonged. Even you said so yourself. ‘He will never be one of us’, you said. Do you remember, brother? I was there. It was one thing to hear it as an elfling from the other youths, but to hear my own brother say it--.” Feredir turned from him and took a deep breath. “I came to Ithilien with one last hope of finding my way. I earned the respect of my fellow battle companions. I earned the respect of the people of Ithilien. Even our Captain supports me, believes in me.” His voice turned to a whisper. “But my own brother . . .”

Orthorien remembered telling their mother that, but he did not know Feredir was there to hear it. He was only trying to make her see his young brother’s difficulties. “Feredir, I--.”

“With Terrwyn I belong. With Terrwyn, I know my place in this world. I know who I am and what I am supposed to be. She needs me now. She has no one else and I know exactly how that feels. Maybe I have embraced my human half since coming to Ithilien. Maybe I find this is where I really belong, where I am accepted. You are not in charge of me anymore, Orthorien. This is my life, the life I have carved out for my own, and I will make my own choices without your influence.” Feredir finished speaking and looked out over the land below.

Orthorien got up from the platform floor and stood facing Feredir’s back. “So much more is at stake, Feredir. Should you leave the girl . . . Terrwyn, she will go on to live her life and one day pass from this world as if you never even mattered. But you, should you choose to stay here . . . you will leave behind a trail of sorrow that will be never ending. This is what you have not taken into consideration.” The golden elf climbed over the side, beginning his decent to the ground below. “It is your choice though. I made a promise. Now promise me you will choose wisely, dear brother.” With that said, Orthorien’s golden head disappeared down the ladder.

* * *

The sky was lighting up with the rising sun. A red glow began to slowly spread higher into the far off sky. Someone shouted in the distance. “They are coming. The Easterlings approach the borders.”

The leader of Feredir’s troop yelled to his men to prepare for battle. Armor clinked as it was fastened. Arrows clicked as they were put into their quivers, sharpened and ready for use. Swords made their steely sound as they were sheathed at their owner’s side. The elves lined up on the wall surrounding Ithilien and waited for their foe to approach. Without much warning, the first wave of arrows broke the barrier of the city’s walls.

“Shields,” yelled a captain and every elf raised their own over their head, deflecting the incoming arrows. Then it was the elves turned to fire. Twice as many arrows shot through the early morning sky. The moans and screams from below informed the elves that they hit their mark more than a few times.

Soon, the Easterling’s wagons were against the wall and ladders emerged from them. The cruel men below climbed to the top of the wall and soon hand to hand combat engaged. These men were merciless in their attack, swinging axes, their weapon of choice. It took a great deal more strength to fend off a heavy ax with the lightness of an elven sword. Luckily, the elves possessed such strength.

Feredir fought side by side with Horphen. Easterlings did not stand a chance against this pair. They took their place at the top of one of their ladders, knocking the enemy back to the ground. Those that got past them did not get far. The elven friends were deep in the blood-lust of battle when they were attacked from behind. Horphen caught the edge of an ax blade with his arm and yelled out. Feredir was sparing with a particularly ugly man when he heard his friend call out to him. He turned and saw him lying on the stone floor of the wall. With his attention distracted, Feredir did not see the man behind him wielding his ax over his head ready to chop the elf in half.

“Behind you, Feredir,” Horphen yelled. The dark elf turned just in time to jump out of the way, but in doing so, he tripped over something and fell to his knees. He looked up to see the same man bringing his massive weapon down upon him when suddenly a flash of gold came between him and the wicked man. Orthorien was there, protecting Feredir and fighting off the Easterling. The young elf got to his feet and joined his brother. Together they fended off many attacks, twisting and turning, connecting on a warrior level and fighting as one being.

Meanwhile, Horphen got to a safe place away from the heat of the battle. His arm was badly wounded and hung limp at his side. He was losing a bit of blood and his strength left him quickly. Somehow, over the shouts of battle, word made its way to a healer, who came to help Horphen. While he was being taken care of, he had time to observe all that was going on. That was when he looked down from the wall and noticed two Easterlings who managed to get past the guards. They were using the shadows below to sneak past the elves. Horphen looked over to Feredir and Orthorien just in time to see them stop fighting due to a lull in the action.

Orthorien regarded his brother with disbelief. “I did not know you could fight like this. Such poetry, I am sorry Feredir, but I was wrong to think you had not improved.”

His words took Feredir by surprise. “Thank you Orthorien.” He was baffled and did not know what else to say.

Orthorien held his arm out to Feredir and the two elves grasped forearms. Then the older warrior pulled the younger one in for a brotherly embrace. Feredir finally felt as though he proved himself to Orthorien in some small way. It would not make up for years of not believing in him, but it was a start.

“Feredir, Orthorien,” Horphen yelled. “Down below, two men have breached the border. They are getting away.”

Orthorien looked at Feredir who returned a devilish smile. “Let’s go,” he said and the brothers flew down a set of stairs that led to the ground within the borders of Ithilien. They ran off together, in search of the two Easterlings, hunting down their enemy.


	39. A Spy in Ithilien

Feredir and Orthorien were right behind the Easterlings that snuck past the wall. The men’s heavy footsteps were easy to follow, while the elves barely made a sound. Then the men disappeared into the heavy undergrowth of the forest. The elves senses became more in tune to their surroundings now that they lost sight of them. They stopped running and walked cautiously. Orthorien nodded his head gesturing to Feredir to go to the right. The older brother went left. Neither one went too far so that they lost visual contact.

Feredir tensed with every tree and every rock that he passed that was big enough to hide the form of a man. He heard a leaf snap from a bush and instantly his elf eyes caught sight of one of the men. His golden helm hid his features but the design signified his ranking. This was not a soldier but rather a runner, someone who delivered messages or goods between the wagons. They were not required to fight, but to keep the men in contact with each other from one end of the caravan to the other. Runners did all the little odd jobs that the soldiers did not have time to worry about. Now Feredir wondered why they snuck across the border and where they were going.

He glanced quickly and saw Orthorien still on the trail of what he hoped was the other Easterling. When his attention came back to the man, he watched as he removed a bow from his back. Now, why would an Easterling have a bow? They normally carried axes or spears. That’s when Feredir noticed that it was a Haradrim bow and the man was fitting an arrow, which he now aimed at his brother. Quick as lightening, Feredir raised his own bow and fired hitting the man in the neck. He let out a muffled cry and instantly fell to the ground. Feredir ran to his brother, who had heard the cry. Both elves now stood over the Easterling looking down at his dead body.

“He was going to shoot you,” Feredir said to Orthorien.

“He has a bow,” Orthorien said baffled.

Feredir crouched down and removed the golden helm from the dead man’s head. Black wiry hair and dark tanned skin revealed his true heritage. “This is no Wainrider,” Feredir said confused.

Orthorien furrowed his brow. “This man is from Harad, a Southron.” His anger began to seethe within him. These were the men that attacked them along with the orcs as he rode into Ithilien.

“But what are they doing dressed as Easterlings?” Feredir wondered, deep in thought.

“Spies,” Orthorien growled. He looked out into the forest. “One yet lives,” he whispered and took off at a run.

Feredir pondered the word spy a moment. These men were Southrons. It suddenly dawned on him that they may know something of the land trade and jewels Terrwyn spoke of. He looked up to see Orthorien disappear into the thick foliage. His brother would capture and kill the other man. No, he thought. He needed him alive. He may hold precious information. “Orthorien, wait!” he called after his brother and followed him at a great speed.

It felt as if he ran forever when suddenly he heard his brother’s voice. “And why should I let you live?”

Feredir came upon them. The man was lying on his back on the leaf littered ground. Orthorien knelt on his chest, one knee crushing into the man’s sternum. The older elf held his knife to the man’s throat, a trickle of blood running to the side of his neck where the blade had already broken the skin.

“Orthorien, no!” Feredir shouted. “We need him. I need him. He may know something.”

Orthorien was distracted by Feredir’s words. “What would he know about anything besides killing? He is naught but a parasite hiding amongst the others and retrieving information to send back to his king. Anything he has seen here he would use against us. He must die.”

“No, I need him alive,” Feredir said and noticed a bit of relief wash over the man’s face. “At least for now.” The elf’s attention came back to the Southron. His silver eyes drilled into those of his captive. “At least now we know how they have come to learn our routines. There will be more. This one . . .” Feredir scowled. “He is expendable. If he will not talk, then you can kill him. There will be more and this time we’ll be ready for them.”

The man said something in his native tongue that Orthorien did not understand. Feredir had dealings with these men and knew some of their words. Still, it was obvious by his tone and the look of fear in his eyes, he was willing to cooperate.

“We will take him to the Captain,” Feredir announced.

They bound the man’s hands with elvish rope and gaged his mouth. Orthorien walked in front while Feredir walked behind and they led the man out of the forest and towards the city. A scout saw them approaching and sent more elves out to meet them. Soon, the man was in Ithilien’s cells awaiting a meeting with the Captain of the Ithilien Guard.

* * *

Glandur was enjoying a visit with Legolas and Rhavaniel, who just happened to be visiting her husband. She had been training her replacement as the Queens new bodyguard. They felt she was ready to begin the take over and Queen Arwen gave permission for Rhavaniel to go on a reprieve. It had been quite some time since she made the trip to Ithilien. One of her highlights was visiting with the Captain and learning about Terrwyn. Glandur informed her of everything that had occurred since the woman arrived, and also the lack of findings to help claim her innocence. As if the Valar themselves heard their conversation, a private messenger interrupted, bringing Glandur word of the captured spy. When asked how it came about, the messenger informed him that it had been Feredir and his visiting brother that made the capture. A bit of pride filled the Captain’s heart to know it was Feredir who had a hand in this. Anyone else might have just destroyed the spy and been done with him.

The Captain looked up to his guests. “An important matter has come to my attention. Lord Legolas, usually I would ask you to join me in something like this, but because Rhavaniel seems to like to get involved, I thought she might like to participate in the interrogation of a spy from the south, a Haradrim as a matter of fact.”

Instantly the husband and wife knew what importance the man played should he hold any information. Rhavaniel looked at Legolas and smiled. “These are your lands he has intruded upon, my lord. And I have not yet officially taken my throne by your side. My duty still lies within Minas Tirith.”

Legolas raised an eyebrow. “Yes, and I have tried desperately to change that one little detail.”

Rhavaniel touched her hand to his fair face. “Soon, my love,” she said to soothe his anxiousness about the situation. It seemed to work and Legolas’ features softened.

“Go then. I know how much you love an interrogation, my dear,” Legolas smiled.

Rhavaniel kissed him before she left. “You should be ready in your quarters by the time I get back,” she whispered quietly in his ear so that the Captain could not hear. Then she made her way to the door and joined Glandur.

* * *

The spy was brought to an empty stone room with no windows and only a few lanterns to light the dark and dampened space. He was placed in a heavy wooden chair, arms and legs bound so he could bring no harm to himself or others. The elves that brought him there, left him blindfolded and gaged. He breathed heavily, worried about what would happen to him. In his mind, it would have been better to die instead of taken prisoner. Of what he knew of the elves, they were magical and cruel. Surely, they would slowly drive him insane until he begged them to end his life.

The door opened and in walked a massively tall golden haired elf. Behind him was a female elf, just as tall and just as dangerous looking. A seductress, the man thought. She would use her sexual magic to draw out any information he might hold.

Glandur could feel the man’s fear for he wore it like a badge. He walked up to the man, waving to Rhavaniel to stay back. She was not needed at this point. The Captain started the conversation by accusing the man of espionage, disguising himself as an Easterling and breaching the borders. He questioned his intent and his finding thus far. He threatened the man’s life should he choose to stay silent, a slow death of course.

The spy, afraid of long drawn out torture before meeting his makers, wagged his tongue and divulged any information he had. Glandur listened and tucked every word away for later use. Thinking he was done, the man asked, “What will you do with me now?”

“Well,” Glandur started. “I could turn you over to her,” he said tilting his head towards Rhavaniel. “She thrives off of the blood of men such as yourself.”

The man shivered at the thought and Glandur continued. “Or you can tell me one more bit of information. You are a spy and something tells me you know of what I am about to ask.” The Captain circled around behind the bound man and Rhavaniel came out of the shadows.

“What do you want to know then? I have told you everything,” the man said nervously.

“What I want to know is not about Ithilien. Tell me, do you know of the purchase of some of your land by a man of Rohan? Something about a fair trade of precious jewels for a piece of your soil?”

Instantly the man’s lips sealed tight and Glandur was sure he knew something. “No? You will not speak now? Oh, and here I thought we had opened the lines of communication. Such a pity. Well, if you will not speak to me, perhaps I should leave you alone with the elleth. I know for a fact she is quite capable of getting men to . . . open up to her.”

Rhavaniel licked her lips and smiled wickedly as she intertwined her fingers and gave her knuckles a good cracking. She approached the man, walking seductively, one foot in front of the other. She put her hands on the arms of the wooden chair and leaned down to the man. “Oh, what fun I will have getting you to talk.” She licked her lips again and stood up straight. Her foot came up and slammed down on the seat between the man’s thighs. He jumped realizing how close he came to losing his own precious jewels. Rhavaniel, who hated dresses, changed into one just for this occasion. Now she slowly pulled the skirt over her bent knee, fingers trailing along her skin in a seductive manner. The man’s eyes widened as he witnessed the supple flesh of the inside of her thigh. Just when he thought he would get a view of something better, she stopped. “Ah, ah.” She wagged her finger back and forth. “Not so fast.” Then her hand pulled a knife from a garter strapped to her thigh. The silver metal flashed in the light of the lanterns as she waved it in front of the man’s face. “We will play this game by my rules.”

Glandur stood behind the man and out of his view. Watching Rhavaniel in action was quite a treat. He could understand why the Prince was so in love. She was dangerous and daring, a perfect match for his lord. Still, he couldn’t help but smile and laugh to himself as he watched the man shiver in his chair.  
Suddenly the man blurted out a name. “Mazzin. There is a man named Mazzin who knows of what you speak.”

Rhavaniel brought the knife up under the man’s chin, the point sticking into his fleshy jaw. “Mazzin is not here but you are. Speak now.” She pushed on his flesh, drawing blood.

“I . . . I know nothing. I was not there, but I have met the man I speak of. He was a message runner. He knew of the deal. He was there and heard everything.” The man’s voice wavered as his eyes rolled around trying to look at anything but this dangerous elleth in front of him.

“And where would we find this . . . Mazzin,” Glandur asked from the shadows.

“He is near the Sea of Rhûn, last I heard. I have not been back in a long time. He may even still work for the same man who set up the trade. He was a slave, that much I know. Slaves rarely get traded for they know too much, but if he has talked he would be dead by now.”

Rhavaniel lowered her knife and her skirt. She stood up straight and looked down at the captive. “Too bad he talked. I was looking forward to playing with him.” Then she raised her hand and slapped his face, leaving it burning as it reddened. “That was for thinking I would let scum like you touch me.” Rhavaniel left the room and two guards came in.

“Take him back to the cells until we figure out what to do with him,” Glandur ordered, then he too left the room and met Rhavaniel out in the hall.

“So what do you think?” Rhavaniel asked. “It is not much to go on.”

“No,” Glandur said disappointedly. “But it is something. We need to get someone into Rhûn, see if we can’t find this Mazzin.”

“That is a big risk,” Rhavaniel said concerned.

“Time is running out, Rhav, and I don’t have any other answers.” Glandur was sure this man knew something. If they could just find him, they could worry about extracting information from him later.

Rhavaniel went off to join Legolas and Glandur made his way back to his office. Feredir was sitting on the floor, back leaned against the office door. As soon as he saw the Captain, he jumped up and stood at attention. Glandur patted his shoulder. “Job well done, Feredir.”

“Did he know anything?” Feredir asked desperately.

“He gave us the name of a slave who knew about the deal. He was a message runner at the time, but whether he is still there or even if he is still alive, I do not know. It is a longshot.”

Feredir looked to the floor, eyebrows furrowed. “I promised her, Captain. I promised Terrwyn I would find an answer and I mean not to break that promise.” Feredir sighed heavily. “I will go if you will allow it. Let me be the one to find this man.”

“Feredir, I can’t let you--.” The Captain was interrupted.

“Please, you know what it is like to love someone and be on the verge of losing them. I have to do this, Captain.” Feredir begged.

“Let me think on it, Feredir,” Glandur answered softly.

Feredir bowed. “Thank you Captain.”

The black haired elf left the Captain’s building. He went back to the healing house so he could see Terrwyn again. He had been gone for a long time and was anxious to hold her in his arms. He wondered if she heard news of his return, if she waited for him. He only wished he had better news.

On his way, he met Orthorien. His brother asked what happened with the spy and Feredir told him all he knew. He told him that he requested to go and find this man. The brothers walked in silence for a block or two. Then Orthorien captured Feredir by his arm, stopping him. Feredir looked at his brother curiously, readying himself for another confrontation, but there was a look on Orthorien’s face that he had never seen before. He stood silently and waited for the golden elf to speak.

“Your love is this strong that you would risk your life by marching into the hands of the Haradrim to find this man?” Orthorien asked.

Feredir did not speak, but only nodded in agreement. Orthorien looked at him intently, searching for some sign that he was not speaking the truth, but saw none. “I did not think it went this deep, brother. I only thought you sought to--.”

“I am not like you Orthorien, though I have tried to be. I did not go looking for it, but it found me. My heart has been touched. I cannot turn that aside.” Feredir spoke with sincerity.

Orthorien smiled slightly and laughed to himself. “Mother was right. You were born with both the blood of the elves and the blood of men and nothing I could have said or done could keep you from knowing that.” He placed his hands on Feredir’s shoulders. “I did say those words to Mother and I did not mean for you to hear. I was trying to convince her of something, but more importantly I was trying to convince myself. You are my brother and I love you. And I . . . I do not want to lose you, not to the world of men. I am selfish and want you with me on that ship when it is time to sail.”

This admission may have been the one thing Feredir had always needed to hear. For so long he thought Orthorien did not see him as an equal, thought he was beneath his brother. Now he understood why he was like this. “I have made no decision just yet, Orthorien.” He tried to ease his brother’s mind.

“No, but you are close now. You have found love and it is among humans. You are right, Feredir. Mother is strong and though she will miss you, she will survive and be glad to know you have found more than just a decision. She wanted you to find a love like the one she shared with your father. I can never express the hurt and anger I felt when I learned that she betrayed my father, and he out on the borders laying down his very life for her, for us. Not until you were born did I come to understand what she found in Minas Tirith. That one chance meeting provided her with an eternity of happiness, and you her gift. Forgive me, brother. I meant not those hurtful words. I just loved you too much to see you leave me and sail alone.”

Feredir embraced Orthorien, pulling him into his being and sharing a rare moment of brotherly love. “I love you too, brother. It is not over yet. I do not know what the future holds and neither do you. The one thing I do know is that I cannot sit by and see injustice done to an innocent woman. Whether my heart belongs to her or not, I must do something.”

The brothers released each other. Feredir looked to his feet, completely lost for any more words. Orthorien felt this. “We will look for an answer together,” he reassured his young brother. “Now come, there is a beautiful woman anxiously awaiting your return.” They shared one last look of certainty and returned to the healing house.


	40. Here and Now

Feredir arrived at Master Curuven’s home and stood outside the door. Orthorien was still with him, but stopped as Feredir reached for the handle.

“You go on. I think I will take a reprieve somewhere else. You do not need me around to hinder this moment,” the older brother smiled. “She will want you all for herself.” He winked at Feredir.

The dark elf laughed. “Give me some time and I will come for you. Then we can think about what we will do with this new information.”

Orthorien nodded and bowed to his brother in a polite gesture before going off towards the center of town. Feredir turned the knob and entered the waiting area of the healing house. A familiar woman sat in a chair against the wall holding a baby in her arms. Her son, a boy of seven or eight, sat next to her, leaning his head against her side. He looked very pale and his eyes were half closed.

Feredir stopped and smiled at the woman. He remembered her now. She had been here before and the baby was crying. He whispered a soothing elvish prayer into the babe’s ear, calming the newborn. Now it seemed the older boy was not well, perhaps with fever.

“He has been like this for two days now. My own remedies do nothing to make him well,” she said to the elf.

“Master Curuven will help him,” Feredir reassured her and knelt down on one knee. He touched the boy’s forehead, which felt unusually warm. “Tis but a fever.”

The boy lifted his small head and looked at the black haired elf through hazy eyes. “Are you going to heal me like you did my baby sister?” he asked in his tiny voice.

“Oh, I did not heal her. I only soothed her to keep her from crying,” he answered.

“Will you do the same for me then?” the boy asked again.

Feredir looked to the mother who smiled warmly and nodded. Feredir took the boy’s hands in his and rubbed his thumbs against their small size. He then started to sing in a whisper and the boy smiled letting the elvish words swirl around his head. He closed his eyes and leaned back against his mother once again. Soon he drifted off into a light sleep, all the while Feredir’s words soothing the boy.

The elf released the boy’s hands and placed them gently in his little lap. The mother smiled. “You are handy to have around,” she laughed. “You have a way with children.”

Feredir smiled, his silver eyes shining with a youthful light. “It is not magic, just a song my mother used to sing to me.” He remembered her singing this song many times after a day of teasing by the other youths. No matter how discouraged he became, his mother had always made sure he did not stay that way. 

He bowed to the woman and entered the workroom beyond the door. Master Curuven and Limil were busy mixing this and that. A stack of fresh bandages waited to be put away. Empty bottles lined a bench, ready to for filling. Feredir knew this was for the soldiers at the borders where he had just come from.

Limil caught movement from the corner of her eye and smiled. “Feredir, so good to see you have returned and in good health. This was quite a battle.”

“Yes it was, Lady Limil, but we still outnumbered them. No deaths of our own were reported,” answered Feredir.

“No deaths, thank the Valar, but plenty of injuries. We started late last evening,” Curuven added. “Someone will be along shortly to retrieve a fresh supply.”

Feredir glanced back to the workroom door. “There is a mother with her children waiting and--.”

“I have it right here,” Limil interrupted. She held up a small vial with a pink liquid in it. “For the boy,” she smiled. “He will be better before the end of the day.” She hurried past Feredir and out of the door to deliver the cure for the fevered boy.

Feredir watched Curuven as he crushed some dried leaves. He poured them onto a piece of cloth and added dried berries, chopped roots and a stick of some sort. He gathered the corners and edges of the cloth, tying it with a string. Then he placed it in a basket with other cloth bundles. “Boil this into a tea and its fragrance is very soothing. The tea helps to alleviate pain,” he informed Feredir. Then he went back to his workbench to begin another remedy. The healer glanced at the elf from the corner of his eye. “I heard you and your brother captured an enemy and brought him to the city.”

“Yes,” Feredir nodded. “He talked, but not much, only a name.”

“Will it help?” Curuven asked, not looking up from his work.

“It might, but he is somewhere in Rhûn. We know nothing else about him except that he was a slave at the time, running messages for his master. He knew about the land agreement,” Feredir answered dismally. 

“Rhûn, the elves have not been anywhere near there in many countless years,” Curuven answered.

“Easterlings, Haradrim, it is their last gathering place now and the place where I will find this slave,” Feredir replied. The determination in his voice was unmistakable. He remained standing, glancing around the work area. He was too polite to leave the Healer, but his mind was elsewhere.

Curuven knew what he thought and smiled. “She is not here at the moment. She is off with her new guard, gathering for me in her usual spot.” He felt Feredir slump emotionally, hoping to have a moment alone with his love.

Limil came back to the workroom and saw the young elf plop down in a chair next to the wooden table in the corner. She glanced over to her husband who returned his stare. He looked at Feredir, then rolled his eyes to look up, referring to the apartment upstairs. Now Limil understood the sadness in the room. Earlier she had brought a basket of wine, bread and fruit for her and Curuven. She smiled as a thought occurred to her and grabbed the basket. “You know, I think that new guard could use a reprieve,” she commented, gaining Feredir’s attention. “And I am sure Terrwyn could use a bite to eat. Here, take this.” She shoved the basket into Feredir’s hands. “She has not been the same since you left, and I see neither have you. There will be no sour faces in this place,” she smiled.

Feredir bowed and thanked the couple for their hospitality and for taking Terrwyn in while he was away. Limil shooed him out of the door. Then she went to Curuven. She wrapped her long arm around him and laid her head on his shoulder. “Do you remember what it was like, young love?” she asked dreamily.

“Remember?” he jested. “I still feel it every day, my sweet.” The Healer stopped what he was doing and drew her in for a long passionate kiss. Then he captured her eyes with a rousing stare. “Every day is like the first with you by my side.”

* * *

The day was the warmest yet. Feredir looked up into the trees. Small buds formed at the ends of their branches. The awakening had begun. More forest creatures scurried about, finding their energy refreshed after a long winter’s nap. The birds of early spring were already picking places to nest. Only a few more weeks and winter would officially be over. It was a bittersweet time for Feredir. Though he always looked forward to the end of winter, this time he wished it would hold off a bit longer.

He needed to think. He needed to figure out what to do with this new information so that he could go back to his Captain with a solution or argue with him that this was the best. Right now, it seemed there was no other choice. Someone would have to go to Rhûn and seek out this man named Mazzin. Of course, Feredir saw no one else doing this but him. He thought about that a moment. With his black hair and dark eyebrows, he could blend in better. Men of Harad covered their heads with heavy cloth and scarves. He could dress the part to help keep his identity a secret. He could sneak past their gates, blend in and find this man as quickly as possible. If only there was more information as to where he might find him.

During the dark days leading up to the Ring war, Rhûn was inundated with orcs and evil men. It was the base for their stronghold. Afterwards, many orcs fled far or were killed. The Haradrim went back to Far Harad while the Easterlings fled back to Rhûn. After the coronation of the new King Elessar, Harad was given an ultimatum. Live under the rule of Gondor or lose their land. Many battles broke out but the Haradrim could not stand up to such a powerful force. They were driven out of their land, unwilling to join with Gondor, and came to Rhûn. They united with the Easterlings, dividing the land into smaller sections. The different tribes of Haradrim or Easterlings ruled these lands. Being that this man worked for the Haradrim, Feredir’s search was already cut in half. Now all he needed to do was find the tribe he belonged to. It all sounded easier said than done, but at least it was a start.

Feredir came upon the section of forest where he would find Terrwyn. His heart raced with excitement as he reached the top of a hill and saw her in the distance. She was kneeling, digging in the dirt. Her hair was tied back out of her face showing her beautiful features. It had been too long since he set his gaze upon her. How could he give her up to Rohan? How could he let men he did not know escort her to her home? It must be done though and it was all the more reason for him to find this slave. If he knew about the land trade, Feredir could bring him to Rohan and make him confess. If he could clear Terrwyn’s name, she would be free. Once she was free, he could . . . she could . . .

“What then?” he asked himself. Feredir shook these thoughts from his mind. There were too many ‘if’s’ standing in the way. One step at a time, he told himself.

The handsome dark elf sat his basket of food down and climbed a tree, making his way to the small platform where the guard watched Terrwyn. They nodded in a silent greeting and Feredir gestured to the other that he would take over now. The guard bowed in agreement and left through the trees, barely making a sound. All the while Terrwyn had no idea of the exchange.

Feredir watched her work for a while. She wore a brown skirt and a creamy white shirt, cinched at the waist, long sleeves, an outfit made for working in the garden. She seemed particularly determined to dig up a specific plant, but it was giving her a hard time. He smiled and thought back to the beginning when he would irritate her from his high perch, when she got too close to the edge and they both fell. That was the first time he realized he had felt something towards her. He had captured her with his silver eyes and she did not look away. Most women did the first time, but not Terrwyn. Her eyes had shone just as bright. It was he who felt he should look away that time, as if he were encroaching upon something forbidden. At the time, she was forbidden and in a way, she still was. She was still a ward of the city and he was still her guard. However, the rules had been broken . . . many times as a matter of fact. The thought heated his blood, sending it to parts of his body that reacted instantly. His body warmed as it tingled with excitement. Not yet, he thought to himself. He wanted to tease her a bit.

“Shouldn’t you move on to something easier, Lag?” he said, disguising his voice and trying not to laugh.

Terrwyn, who never had any issues with this guard, was suddenly stunned by his comment. She sat back on her heals and looked up into the tree. She could not see him very well. He was not in plain sight.

“What did you just call me?” she asked accusingly.

“You heard me. Move along. You are wasting your time prodding at that old plant and we don’t have all day,” he answered in the same low voice. He watched as Terrwyn regarded him with narrowed eyes. As soon as she turned back to her work, he added. “Lag.”

Terrwyn put down her trowel, took off her gloves and stood to face the rude elf. “How dare you refer to me as such. I have already had to endure this kind of slanderous abuse once. I will not hear it anymore.”

“Is that so? Well maybe I will stop if you do something for me.”

Terrwyn was baffled. This elf had been her guard for the past two weeks and not once had he behaved like a lout. This was her first time out alone with him though. Maybe he was waiting for this sort of an opportunity. “Do not finish that thought or I will report you to your Captain.”

“That will do you no good. It is the Captain that has allowed me to be here now as well as the Master Healer.” Feredir almost could not keep up the travesty, but this was too much fun. He always did like bantering with her.

“Look here you brute, I may be here under the orders of your laws, but--.” Terrwyn jabbered away, not paying attention to the fact that the elf had moved down the tree. Someone had left a grey cloak on the platform and Feredir put it on, covering his head with the hood. He made his way to the ground, letting Terrwyn continue her threats. Suddenly she was aware that the guard was on the ground and walking towards her. She immediately stopped her incessant babbling and began taking steps backwards away from this fiend. He laughed in a low growl not sounding like himself. Terrwyn started to think that this guard was not who he had seemed all this time.

With every one of his steps, Terrwyn backed up by two. He was still closing in on her and when her back thumped up against a tree, she knew there was nowhere to run.

He continued his slow deliberate prowl towards her. Finally, not knowing what else to do she yelled out. “Stop. Don’t come any closer. I do not want this . . . or you. I . . . I am spoken for.”

Feredir stopped his pursuit. “Is that so? And who has claimed you for his own?”

Terrwyn knew better than to give a name. Though certain people supported this relationship, they were still breaking some very important rules between guard and ward. “He is someone much stronger than you, much more handsome. His skills are well known and if he knew you acted inappropriately towards me, you would not live to see tomorrow.”

Feredir, still hidden beneath the cloak, tilted his head in question. “More handsome you say, just how much more?”

Terrwyn crinkled her brow, confused by his line of questioning, but not in a position to argue. “Much, much more.”

“And have you kissed him?”

Terrwyn was feeling rather uncomfortable. “I do not have to answ--.”

“Have you kissed him?” he demanded.

“Yes,” she answered angrily. Then she thought she better be convincing. “Yes, we have kissed and he sets me alight.”

Feredir hardened beneath the cloak. This whole situation seemed wrong, but it felt so good. “And did you give yourself to him?” His voice became very slow and seductive, making Terrwyn think deeply about his questions. “Did you lie beneath him, writhing in rhythm, moaning his name while he took you to the height of ecstasy?”

Terrwyn swallowed hard. Yes, she did. She did all of those things, but her mouth was too dry to form the words to answer him.

“And my guess is that he knows about that little birthmark just above the dimple on your left hip,” he said.

Terrwyn regarded him questioningly at the mention of her birthmark. “How would you know about--?”

Feredir finally lowered the hood of his cloak, revealing himself to her. Terrwyn didn’t know whether to be happy to see him or angry at him for his deceit. “You bastard,” she shouted as a smile escaped her lips.   
He smiled and laughed, but his mood quickly turned serious as his eyes darkened with lust. “I want you . . . now,” he demanded.

Terrwyn gasped at his forwardness. “Not here. Not now.” She tried to sound annoyed, but the tone in her voice deceived her. She wanted him just as badly.

Feredir’s silver eyes shaded to a deeper grey as he could no longer control his hunger for her. “Oh yes, here and now. It has been far too long.”

Terrwyn could not keep up her façade another moment and pushed away from the tree, throwing herself into his arms. They locked eyes then kissed, mouths plundering upon each other. He picked her up off the ground and spun her around. Her legs came up and wrapped around his waist as her hands buried into his hair. She felt his hardness against her center and moaned.

Feredir pushed her up against the tree, using it for leverage as he let her rub against his body. He carried her to a low moss covered wall, the last remnants of an ancient city, and sat her on top. His hands proceeded to move up her legs and to the inside of her thighs, pushing the skirt up and her legs apart as he went. Then he got to his knees and kissed along the same path that his hands had just traveled until he reached her center. His tongue darted out, licking her, lapping at her folds.

She threw her head back, her fingers wrapping around his black hair, soft and thick. Her moans told him she was ready for him and he stood up, unlaced his leggings and set his thick cock free of its confines. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to the edge of the wall. The height was just perfect and he looked at her with lust and rousing desire. Feredir watched her face as he plunged into her, burying himself to the hilt in one swift movement.

Terrwyn gasped as he invaded her body, something she felt she’d never get used to. It was always so sudden and he filled every part of her until he touched her deep against her inner most wall. He pulled from her, but not completely, captured her mouth and thrust into her again. She moaned into his mouth, her fingers digging deep into his back. Had he been shirtless, she would have left welts across his skin.

Feredir continued this way with her, slowly moving out and then driving into her deep, fast and hard until her inner muscles squeezed him tight. She yelled his name and it echoed through the trees. A pair of doves burst into flight, their wings snapping in the air. The world around them disappeared as they reached the climax of their gratifying rapture. It spread between their bodies, seeming to pass from one being to the other. Then Terrwyn collapsed against his chest. Feredir buried his face in her hair, kissing the top of her head. “Ai, Naru you will undo me every time.”

After a brief rest, they straightened and dressed. The elf led Terrwyn to a comfortable spot on the soft ground and brought her the basket. He sat next to her and she nuzzled in against his side. Feredir kissed her forehead and smiled. Then he pulled out the bottle of wine and bread. He poured the wine, gave her a glass and watched her lips as they delicately touched the glass. Right now, everything seemed as it should be. Right now, they were happy and Terrwyn was content, but this was right now and soon it would change.

Feredir reached out and tucked a loose hair behind her ear. “What will happen when your people come for you?” he asked. He did not want to think about it, but it seemed unavoidable.

Terrwyn swirled the wine around in her glass, watching how it stained the inside to a pale pink. “Well, there will be no less than four men. They know the road is still a danger and there is safety in numbers.”

Feredir’s brow creased. “Four men and one woman, I do not like those odds.” He sat silently a moment. “What will happen to you then?”

“Most likely my hands will be bound. I will ride with one of them. We will travel at a decent pace, not in a hurry, but fast enough. Once I get to Rohan, I will probably be placed in a cell where I will await my--.” She could not tell him that she would undoubtedly be executed and that her tribunal was only to determine the way it should be carried out.

“I cannot stand the thought of you behind bars in a damp dark cell,” he whispered. His tone was one of concern. “Sometimes I do not understand the ways of Men, that they would treat their women like this, criminal or not.”

“You do not understand the Rohirrim. They have the utmost respect for their women. The fact that they are allowing me a hearing proves that. Had it been a man, he would have been beaten and hung within a matter of hours.” Terrwyn gave Feredir a slightly angered look. “Do not judge my people. They are my kin and my blood is the same as theirs. They are only following their laws.”

“If that is so, then why did you run away? Why not stay and defend yourself?” Feredir countered.

“Because if something happens to me, my brother will never be found. I am all he has, Feredir. I know he lives. I feel it deep within my soul.” She sat up, leaning away and turning her back to him. “I should have never stayed so long in Minas Tirith. I should have moved along, left the city and set out to find Hathmund, but I was distracted.”

Feredir thought about what little she had told him about her brother. He knew Hathmund was taken at a young age by the Haradrim. Other than that, he did not know much about him. “Tell me about him,” Feredir said as he reached out to touch her back, running his fingers along her spine. “You have not said much about him, but I would like to know. What did he look like? Who was he?”

She couldn’t remember the last time she spoke of Hathmund in depth. Terrwyn smiled as she remembered him. “He was the best brother anyone could ever have. He always cared for me, making sure I never went without. When our mother fell into despair, Hathmund became my caretaker. When she sent us away to live with another family, Hathmund watched over me. More than anything, he wanted to follow in our father’s footsteps and become a Rohirric soldier, but he would not leave me. Even after he took a job as a message runner, he always came home . . . until one day he just didn’t.” Her words faded into the wind as she remembered that time, finding her mother’s body and seeing evidence of Hathmund’s kidnapping.

Feredir never realized how alike they were, both suffering difficulties since they were young. Their pasts had shaped them, made them the determined people they were now. He knew how much it meant to her to find her brother, or at least to know what happened. “Where do you think they took him?” he asked.

“Somewhere past the Sea of Rhûn would be my guess. That is where slaves are said to be taken. Why do you ask?”

“Terrwyn, there is something I must tell you,” he started. Then he told her about the outbreak at the borders and the two men who broke through. He told her about the capture of one and Glandur’s interrogation. Then he told her about the only link to her case that might be of any help.

“And this man is in Rhûn?” she asked.

Feredir got to his feet, bringing Terrwyn with him. He held her face in his hands and gazed into her green eyes. He had never been so sure of something before, the answer coming to him clearly. “I am going to request to go to Rhûn. I want to be the one to find this man.”

She looked at him, terrified. “You cannot do this. It would be suicide to go into that land. They are brutal and savage, bloodthirsty men.”

“Do you have no faith in me? I am one of Ithilien’s best soldiers,” he said proudly. “I did not get that way by avoiding risks and playing the coward.”

Terrwyn shook her head. “This is not a game. These are very dangerous men and you are but one elf. If anything should happen to you . . .”

“If I don’t do this something could happen to you, and I cannot live with that.” He looked her deep in the eyes. “You cannot hide the truth from me, Terrwyn. I know that going back to Rohan means your death. You will not come out and say it, but I understand the workings. Hearing or no, you will be put to death and if that happens I will--.” Feredir stopped from telling her what he feared would happen to him, to fade and die of a broken heart. “My mind is made up, Naru. I am going and I will go against my Captain’s orders if I must.”

“You, Feredir, are a stubborn foolish elf and will be slain by your own arrogance,” she said sternly. Terrwyn glared at him, and then poked him in the chest with her slender finger. “Well then, let us be on our way. Captain Glandur will want to hear your latest idea. I am sure he will not agree and I just might take his side in this matter,” she complained.

Feredir grabbed her by her waist and pulled her to him. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” He forcibly ravaged her neck with wanton kisses.

She allowed him to seduce her and it might have worked had she herself not been so headstrong. “You will not alter my thoughts on this, though I will enjoy your persistent attempt to do so.” Before she knew what was happening, Feredir swept her off her feet and carried her back to their soft leaf littered nest on the forest floor where he tried repeatedly to change her mind, but this time not with words.


	41. The Plan

 

Feredir and Terrwyn stood outside of the building that housed the Captain’s office. On the way there, he explained to her what he was going to say to convince Captain Glandur to let him go to Rhûn.

“And what am I supposed to do?” she asked sounding as if she had no say in the matter.

“You just stand there and look upset,” he said bluntly. He looked back to see Terrwyn standing there, arms folded and tapping her foot. “Very good, just like that,” he jested.

Terrwyn said nothing but shot him an angered glance and followed him into the main headquarters. They went to the Captain’s office, knocked and were greeted by Glandur. He smiled, his face lighting up as he set eyes upon Terrwyn. Behind her stood Feredir and the Captain gave him a questioning look.

“What brings you here? I was not expecting a visit today,” Glandur questioned.

They entered the office, Feredir stepping past Terrwyn. He bowed as was expected of him and came to attention. “Captain, Terrwyn and I would like to speak to you about the matter of the information we have just received.”

Glandur nodded. “Ah yes, I have been discussing our options with Prince Legolas, and it seems to me that--.”

“I would like the chance to explain my thoughts on this,” Feredir interrupted.

Glandur cocked an eyebrow in his direction. “And since when does a prison guard have a say in matters outside of our city?”

“Border guard, Captain,” Feredir corrected.

“Not if you keep up this unusual behavior,” Glandur threatened. “This issue is out of your hands, Feredir.”

“If it has to do with Terrwyn, it has to do with me,” Feredir said standing his ground.

Glandur sensed the young elf’s determination and decided to let him have his say. “Go on then, what plan have you devised?”

“Allow me to go, Captain. I am stealthy and I am smart. If I disguise myself, I can slip right in and blend with the locals. I know I can find this man called Mazzin and I know I can convince him to tell me all he knows.”

“It may take more than that,” Glandur said. “If he is our only link to these land dealings, he will need to speak in person, otherwise a messenger’s word will not do. This may lead to an extraction of the person in question and it will take more than one elf to do this.”

“Then let me go with them,” Feredir pleaded.

Glandur looked to Terrwyn who stood silently in the background. “And what do you have to say about all of this?” he asked her.

“Well, I was told by a certain stubborn elf to not say anything, Captain, but now that you have asked me, I say that you are all mad. Have you heard nothing about the lands beyond the Sea of Rhûn? You are not dealing with dimwitted barbarian Wildsmen. These are the Haradrim. They operate much differently than the men you are used to. They base their existence on a certain foundation, one in which every person is trained to pick out those that do not belong. If you are not with them, they will know and you will die. Even those born into their lifestyle are open to these punishments. No one disobeys the clan leaders or they will not exist. Spying is what they do best. A group of elves in disguise will stick out like a sunflower in a field of dasies. This mission is doomed before it has started.”

Glandur smiled and turned his sights to Feredir. “It seems she had quite a bit to say,” the tall Captain jested. Feredir just rolled his eyes.

“I know much about the Haradrim, Captain,” Terrwyn went on. “I would be glad to tell you all I know about how they function as a society. If you truly mean to do this, you should know everything there is. Now, I don’t much agree with Feredir going and risking his life, but he understands my situation more than anyone else and he made a good point to me earlier. He has certain aspects to his looks that will help him to blend in physically. He may have a better chance than anyone. But he mustn’t go alone. You would be safer with a small group, say three or four, but no more than that. If something goes wrong, you will need each other to escape.”

Feredir watched Terrwyn as she spoke, surprised by her wealth of knowledge. He understood now that this was not going to be easy. He could not use his warrior expertise to march into Rhûn. He would have to be even more cunning than he first thought. To have Terrwyn’s support in this made his heart swell.

Glandur smiled and nodded in agreement, then gestured for Terrwyn and Feredir to have a seat. “I would like to know more, but first let me summon the Prince. He should know about these things since he is the deciding factor. If you will excuse me a moment,” Glandur bowed and left the room.

Feredir sat next to Terrwyn on a small couch. He reached for her hands and brought them to his lips. “I am sorry, Naru. I should not have tried to quiet you. I did not see what an important part you would play in all of this.”

“And you have much to learn of this woman of Rohan if you think I will sit idly by and say nothing. You must understand, Feredir that I want to protect you just as much as you want to protect me. If I can be of use in a situation, I will speak and I will join in if it is at all possible. For years, since my brother was kidnapped I have plotted and planned my entrance into those lands. The one thing I came to realize was that I could not do it alone. As much as I wanted to just run away and find my own way, I knew I couldn’t. You are much like me in that way. You want to do everything yourself with no one’s help, but there are times when it is not possible. This is one of those times.”

“You know something, Naru?” he asked.

Terrwyn caught a glimpse of a sparkle within his eyes as he looked at her. “What?” she smiled dreamily.

“You still talk too much, but I love you even more for it now.” He leaned towards her and kissed her lightly on the lips.

After a while, Glandur came in with Legolas. The Prince went to Terrwyn and she stood immediately to show her respect. He smiled warmly and embraced her then held her back so he could look at her. “My, prison life tends to agree with you,” he teased.

“Elves have an odd idea of incarceration and it has felt nothing of the sort,” she answered.

“My lord,” Glandur interrupted. “Terrwyn can tell us much about the people we are to deal with,” he started. Everyone took a seat and she filled them in on everything she just told Feredir. After she finished, they sat silently a moment.

“I think it is clear that Feredir cannot go into Rhûn alone. However, you cannot stay as a group once you get there. We are going to need a certain type of soldier to be able to blend well and not look suspicious. Feredir will need support at a distance. Glandur, who do you have in mind?”

“I will begin assessing my choices right away, my lord,” Glandur answered.

“But you are forgetting one very important thing,” Terrwyn added. “How are you going to have them travel to Rhûn without bringing too much attention to themselves?” 

Feredir was standing by a table that held a map of the area. “Captain, do we have any information about how the Haradrim dress or if it plays into their politics?”

Glandur looked at Feredir questioningly. “Why yes, I believe we have some drawings of the different ranks and how their dress signifies their wealth and status.”

Terrwyn looked over to where Feredir stood and could see his mind working. He was on to something and she waited to see just what it was.

“And has the King sent word of when his men will come for Terrwyn?” His eyes came to rest upon her, a certain sadness and concern buried deep within their silver hue.

“I have received none, though I expect to hear from them soon enough,” Glandur answered, and he too was beginning to see the stirrings of a plan. “But I could send correspondence to Rohan telling them that Ithilien will deliver the prisoner personally, saving his men the journey.”

“I agree with this. I would much rather see our people escort Terrwyn to Rohan,” Legolas added. “I will send a message directly to King Eomer myself,” Legolas added. “There should be no problem.”

Feredir continued. “We could have our tailor’s make disguises, one of lesser wealth and the others of higher status within the clans, but not more than a well-off citizen. I will take Terrwyn to Rohan and get her settled, speak to the King and ask that the hearing be delayed then the others can come along in a few days. When we are all in Rohan, we will leave for Rhûn and find the slave.”

Terrwyn sat mesmerized by these three elves, the Lord of Ithilien, the Captain of Ithilien Guard and their finest warrior. How did it seem her luck was finally changing after months of worry? But it was too soon to tell that. If anything, this was one last chance to prove her case in Rohan, if the elves found this mystery man. 

With the plan finalized, the meeting adjourned and Terrwyn left with Feredir. It was time to get her back to Master Curuven’s home. They walked slowly, savoring this time together.

“How long before we leave?” she asked.

“I would think in a few weeks’ time the spring will be well under way. We do not want to risk a late winter storm by leaving any sooner,” he said and stopped by the elvish fountain in the middle of town. He stared up at the stone women, admiring their faces. “They always did remind me of my mother somehow. They do not look like her, but there is something about their faces, a motherly appeal.” He turned to Terrwyn and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. “When this is over, I will have to travel to Mirkwood. I know not how long I will be there.”

“And I do not know if I will still be on this earth by that time,” she said sadly. “Everything depends on finding this one man, and who is to say he will cooperate, whether he comes along by his own free will or forcefully.”

Feredir lifted her chin. “Did I not find your precious butterfly when all I had to go on was a story?” He kissed her and felt her lips tremble. “I will find this man, Terrwyn. I made you a promise and I mean to keep it. And if I must leave you, it is only for a short while.” He paused and looked off into the distance, creasing his brows as if to ward off some new emotion.

Terrwyn looked up, studying his strong jaw, clenched tight in frustration. “You cannot be by my side every minute. I have survived this long. I can take care of myself. You must do the same, Feredir.”

His face relaxed and he smiled at her again. “I suppose you are right.”

Terrwyn held out her hand, offering it to Feredir. Then she led him to the healing house.

* * *

The next morning, Terrwyn awoke to a strange sound. Having an elf to curl up to during the night was bliss, but waking to the sound of metal scraping over metal was not what she expected. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, finding Feredir sitting on the edge of the wide windowsill.

“I thought elves had the gift of song, especially in the morning,” she said groggily. “What on earth are you doing?”

“I’m sharpening my blade,” he said curtly, as if she should have known.

“Well, do you have to do that now? It is early and that sound is about to make my ears bleed,” she complained. She sat up and lowered her legs over the side of the bed. Feredir sat in the corner of the window, back leaning against the side, knee bent and his foot perched on the sill. The other leg dangled down, toes firmly planted on the floor. He wore a pair of loose night pants, cream colored, and no shirt. The morning sun reflected off his black hair making it shine like a piece of polished onyx. The muscles in his arms moved and flexed, rising beneath his skin. It was a most welcomed site first thing in the morning and Terrwyn smiled to herself knowing how blessed she was to have him in her life now. How long he would be in it was another matter.

It was something she thought very little of only because she did not understand it. Feredir was half-elven. He was young for an elf and could live for thousands of years before making his choice, but he did not have that kind of time. Elves were sailing from Middle-earth more often. Soon there would be none left. The world would belong to Men. She wondered what would happen to him now.

Feredir had told her a long time ago when they first met that he considered himself an elf and there was no other choice. One day he would sail with the rest of his kin. So, where did that leave her should she survive her tribunal in Rohan?

“You seem lost in your thoughts this morning,” Feredir noted from the window. “Is everything alright?”

She smiled shyly and looked to the floor. “Everything is fine. I was just thinking of how much I will miss Ithilien and its people.”

The dark elf laid his blade on the windowsill and jumped down, walking to the bed. “Perhaps you will be back here someday.”

“And what about you? Where will you go after all of this is over with?” she asked sadly.

“Why with you of course, but why do you ask such things? Have I not told you I will not leave you?”

“But you will leave someday, Feredir.”

He regarded her seriously. “I have not yet made any decision as to my future.”

“Do not play me for a fool,” she responded. “Why would you even consider choosing . . . choosing . . .”

“Choosing the gift of Men? I must be honest and say I have never considered it before, but then I have not met someone like you either. Everything changed after you came along.” He reached out to her, but Terrwyn shied away.

“That’s just it. I don’t want to be the reason you choose mortality. Who am I but a poor girl from Rohan, abandoned, looked down upon. I have no kind of life that an elf, one of the ancient fair folk should give up his race to be with. For Eru’s sake Feredir, I have a criminal past. You should loath me. I have murdered one of my own kind, something that I know elves hold very sacred. My future is obscured by doubt and death may be definite. Even if I survive, there are those who will always think I am guilty. And you . . . you are most pure, an elf. Why would you subject yourself to this kind of uncertainty?”

Feredir turned and walked back to the window, gazing out over the garden and beyond as far as he could see, to Mirkwood, to his heritage. “You regard me as if I was one of the ancient Eldar, but you could not be further from the truth. My father’s blood runs just as strong through my veins as does that of my mother. My body feels the need to grow old just as it feels the need to remain ageless. Yes, I was raised by elves, lived by their laws, but that has not quelled my desire to know what it is to be human. This conflict has haunted me every day of my life. I did not have my father’s advice of how it is to live as a mortal, yet my desire to experience this has not changed. If anything, it has only become more voracious since coming to Ithilien. Then, when I am in battle with my elvish army and I see how they fight to protect their immortality, I feel it too. My blood warms and races through my veins. I know that I will far outlive any of those enemies who aim to extinguish that life from me, and I will protect it. I will reap the reward of feeling everlasting and in that moment I am an elf with no doubt.”

Feredir turned around and faced Terrwyn, still sitting on her bed. “And then you came along, Naru and the very thing I fought to protect, I would now offer my enemy if it meant keeping you safe. That is neither elvish nor human. It is love, it is my heart and soul and it is yours now. That is where I had no choice . . . loving you.”

Tears threatened to spill from Terrwyn’s eyes and she jumped up from the edge of her bed, collapsing in Feredir’s arms. All of her emotions and stress of the upcoming days poured from her as she wept against his chest. Feredir cradled her in his arms and whispered his magic into her ear, calming her as he did the boy with the fever. When she calmed he spoke again. “If I died tomorrow, I would die knowing my heart was finally content and at peace. This is what you bring to me, Terrwyn. This is why you make me feel as if I belong no matter where I am or who I’m supposed to be.”

She smiled against the warmth of his chest. “I love you so much, Feredir.”


	42. What Is Proper

Soon after plans were made for Feredir to take Terrwyn to Rohan and then secretly enter into the land of Rhûn, they began setting things in motion. Legolas wrote to King Eomer, carefully explaining their reasons for escorting the prisoner without sounding as if they were getting too involved. This was still a matter of Rohirrim law and did not involve Ithilien. After a while, the Prince received correspondence from Eomer of his approval for the elf to bring Terrwyn saving his men the trip.

Glandur and some of his officers studied the Haradrim, their customs and clothing. Tailors produced outfits matching the descriptions given to them. The elves would wear these upon entering into Rhûn. They would have to know exactly how to wear all the different layers and make sure the colors were correct for whatever position they were portraying, the more colorful the clothes, the higher their rank. The elves would disguise themselves as simple civilians so their clothes would be very drab with little color.

In the meantime, Terrwyn went on normally working for Master Curuven and learning as much from him as she could. She did not know if she would ever use any of this knowledge with where she was going, but it kept her mind off her worries.

Limil talked with her often trying to relieve her anxiety. Many times, when Terrwyn was taking a break from her work, the healer’s wife would catch the young woman holding the little wooden butterfly and rubbing its wings while staring into the distance. The elleth would leave her alone with her thoughts at times like this. It was obvious that Terrwyn was trying to work through her difficulties on her own. There was nothing Limil could say or do to change the woman’s thoughts.

Terrwyn was working in the garden, preparing it for the new spring growth when she heard voices coming up a path that ran along behind the row of houses. She stood up and peered out over the hedges. A group of Ithilien guard came up the pathway. Her heart pounded loudly as she recognized one very tall, very handsome soldier. Feredir had gone back to the borders with his troop shortly after their meeting with Glandur. He had been gone for a few weeks and was just now returning with the rest of his troops. 

She watched him as he smiled and laughed with his friend Horphen. He was dressed in his uniform, black and silver with simple armor covering his chest. Strapped to his back was his bow and his sword hung at his side. In his right hand, he carried his silver helm. His left hand made different sharp gestures as he and his friend reminisced about their recent adventures. All the elves together looked very intimidating, but none stood out more than Feredir. It was not his height or the color of his jet black hair that made him stand out, but the way he carried himself. He was a very proud elf and it showed with every step he took. Terrwyn longed to see him in action, muscles taught and fury in his eyes. What a magnificently powerful creature he must look as he battled his enemies. The thought made Terrwyn’s body warm.

While watching Feredir with his troops, she noticed how he suddenly seemed to stop listening to his friend as he tilted his head up, sniffing the air. Instantly his eyes shifted and he became aware of Terrwyn out in the garden. His lips moved as if answering his friend, but his sight did not leave her. He had known she was there before he even saw her.

Terrwyn did not want to make a scene and only allowed a slight smile. She placed her hand to the side of her face, only lifting a finger as a wave. Now his attention was completely diverted to her and he did not answer his friend. After a few attempts to get Feredir’s attention, Horphen followed the dark elf’s gaze. Terrwyn giggled to herself and immediately ducked down behind the bushes. She picked up her gardening tools and rushed into the house. Feredir would be coming soon, but first he would have to report with his troops.

Horphen’s eyes only caught a few tendrils of red flame before it disappeared into the house. He smiled as he watched Feredir straining his neck to see over the bushes. “That’s her isn’t it?” he asked to gain Feredir’s attention.

Feredir did not speak to anyone about Terrwyn. He liked things as they were, private. Only a few knew of their new relationship. Even his friend Horphen knew nothing of the Rohirrim woman. He paused before answering his friend. “I am not sure I know what you are talking about.”

“Feredir, do not think I have not seen the look in your eyes lately. You can deny it all you want, but I know your secret. You have found someone. So fess up, who is she and have you asked to court her yet?” Horphen was quite straightforward with his questions.

“It is difficult right now. If you must know, yes I have met someone, but I’m afraid that is all you will get out of me,” Feredir said stubbornly.

Horphen thought a moment. “Oh, so you are not in a courtship. Going behind her family’s back now are you?” he jested.

“I would do no such thing.” Feredir took offence to his questioning. “Actually, she has no family so there is no one to ask permission.” Feredir stopped walking and put a brotherly hand on Horphen’s shoulder. “I am sorry, but I do not want to speak of this right now. There are . . . complications and we have decided to keep things quiet for now. I do hope you understand and can forgive me.” Feredir could not say anything because of the upcoming plans to transport Terrwyn to Rohan. He did not want everyone knowing that he and Terrwyn were in love. It would only complicate things. “Hopefully, everything will turn out for the better and one day you will meet her.”

Horphen laughed and shook his head. He waited until the last of the troops passed before confessing something to his friend. “Do not play me for the fool, my friend. You cannot deceive one of Ithilien’s best scouts. I have watched and heard things. Everyone else may be blind to what is going on, but this is what I have trained for my whole life. I know you have fallen for the Rohirrim girl.” Feredir put his hand up to protest but Horphen made him back down. “It is alright. No one else even speaks of such things. There have been more important matters at hand lately. You are my best friend, Feredir and I see a change in you and not just your desire to go back to the borders. I also understand why you feel this way towards her.” Horphen gestured towards the hedges where he had seen a glimpse of Terrwyn before she disappeared into the Healer’s house. “She is very beautiful and only the best will do for you my friend.”

Feredir allowed a small curl of a smile and shook his head. “I never could keep anything from you. Ai, why did I pick you as my battle partner?” he said jokingly.

“Because you needed a conscience. Without me you would be in trouble with the Captain every week,” Horphen answered. “Now tell me why this must be kept so secret?”

Feredir could not tell him the real reason, but he could tell him half. “As you know, I was her guard and it is against the rules to become . . . involved with a prisoner, but there is something about her that draws me to her, makes me want to protect her from her complications. There is more, but I’m afraid I really cannot speak of it.”

“Don’t compromise your position for me. I just wanted to know that I was not seeing or hearing things. I think you are coming into your own lately. It’s nice seeing this side of you,” Horphen teased.

“I have not changed so much that I will not stick you with one of my arrows for prying,” Feredir returned.

Horphen raised his hands in the air. “I give up. Don’t shoot.”

The two friends laughed and caught up to the others as they made their way to the guard headquarters.

* * *

Terrwyn straightened up her hair and threw on a new dress knowing that Feredir was coming to visit. Still, she did not want to look overly anxious, so she took the stairs down to the workroom and began labeling bottles, her normal work. It seemed like forever as she waited for her elf to arrive and she began to worry if there was some other matter to attend to when she was suddenly grabbed by the waist and lifted from her feet.

“How do you do that?” she gasped.

“Do what?” Feredir answered.

“How do you get so close without making a sound?”

He buried his face in her neck. “Maybe it is not that my steps are silent, but that you are not listening.” His breath washed across her delicate skin before she turned in his arms.

“I have missed you terribly.” Terrwyn threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Ai Naru, I have missed so many things about you also. Let me start by showing you what I missed most.” His hands traveled under her shirt, brushing against her warm skin.

Terrwyn was glad she was not the only one who was excited about this reunion, but she was not ready to give in to his charms so easily. She grabbed his arms and pushed his hands down as they got dangerously close to her breasts. “You should have more self-control. What if we are not alone?”

“I checked and no one is here,” he growled in her ear. Feredir was making it very difficult to resist him.

“And what if Master Curuven and his wife are on their way right now?” She was trying to push him away, but Feredir was overpowering her.

“Then let them learn something from the youth of the Fourth Age. Do you think they have ever tried--,” and he whispered something tantalizing into her ear.

Terrwyn leaned back and slapped him playfully on the arm. “You are incorrigible aren’t you?” She escaped his hold and drew herself up straight as if to challenge him. “Now, I have never properly been courted before, but I know this is not how an interested ellon should behave upon returning from the borders. Do you think I have just been sitting here day after day waiting for you to come and sweep me off my feet?”

Feredir’s face stiffened. “Of course I don’t think that. You work very hard for the Master Healer.” As he spoke, he was once again holding her by the waist, silver eyes gleaming with tempestuous yearning. “But I can almost be certain that you lie in your bed at night and think of me touching you, making you writhe beneath me as I press into you.”

Terrwyn closed her eyes and let his seductive words carry her away, forgetting that she was trying to teach him patience.

“So do you want me to be proper or do you want me to take you upstairs and make all your fervent dreams come true?” he asked.

Terrwyn felt as if she were under some lustful spell and allowed Feredir to carry her up the stairs. He pushed her bedroom door open with his foot and stepped inside, closing it the same way. He lowered her to the bed, never taking his eyes from her and crawled onto her body. His lips brushed across her slowly one way and then the next. Pausing, he searched her eyes and found that she was lost to his seduction. Feredir smiled at how easy it was to persuade her to do his bidding, at least when it came to matters behind the bedroom door. He continued kissing her along her jaw and down her neck, coming to her cleavage, which was heaving with her rapid breaths.

“Do you still want me to behave like a nice and proper elf?” he teased.

Terrwyn laughed. “Never, I want you just the way you are.”

“Good,” he answered and stood up. They each undressed quickly and Feredir stood at the end of the bed. Terrwyn was lying back on the pillows, ready for him to come to her. He made a gesture for her to come to him instead, his half-closed bedroom eyes wantonly speaking to her. She obeyed his commands and joined him, kneeling on the bed.

“Turn around,” he whispered gently and she did. Then Feredir pulled her to him, his hardened length pressing into the small of her back. “Just do as I show you.” He nibbled on her shoulder and she sighed, glad to have him back in her bed.

Feredir gave her a little push, gesturing for her to lean forward. Now she was on hands and knees. He wrapped his long fingers around her waist and pulled her to him again. Then he entered her, her warmth sheathing him. He put a foot onto the bed and began his rhythm, slowly at first, then quickening his strokes. Terrwyn’s back arched as he rubbed her in places she did not know existed before. Feredir’s hand left her waist and went in search of her pleasurable center. He flicked and teased with his fingers until she was almost singing. Then he started thrusting fast and deep, watching her body violently jolt forward every time he drove into her body. Her inner muscles clenched tightly around his painfully hard member and they found release simultaneously.

Short of breath and unable to hold herself up, Terrwyn’s arms and legs shook. Feredir did not want to leave the comfort of her body just yet, but he gently pulled from her and climbed onto the bed. Then he brought her down to lay next to him, facing each other and her head buried into his chest. “I am not done with you yet, but we will continue this later. I have a surprise for you.”

Terrwyn lifted her head to look at him. “What kind of a surprise?”

“Well, it will not be long before we must leave and I want to take you somewhere. I want you to accompany me as is ‘proper’ and not in secret,” he said smiling.

“You mean not as guard and prisoner, but as a real couple?” she said excitedly. Then she asked him skeptically. “What has made you change your mind? I thought we were breaking rules.”

Feredir smiled. “We are, but I do not care anymore. These are our last days her in Ithilien and I want to be with you as we should be. And besides, I want you to meet someone. If not for her, we may not be here right now.”

“Oh, is that so?” Terrwyn answered with a raised eyebrow.

“Relax, Naru, she is a friend and I wish to see her before we leave. I also wish for her to meet you and see how much I love you, and tell her she was right.”

Terrwyn looked at him curiously, but was happy to see something of Ithilien besides Master Curuven’s house.

* * *

Later that day, Limil and Curuven came to Terrwyn, the elleth holding a box in her long arms. She handed it to the woman.

“What is this?” Terrwyn asked.

“We wanted you to have something of your own and thought you might like to wear this tonight,” Limil sang as she handed Terrwyn the box.

The young woman excitedly opened the box to reveal a beautiful peach dress with pearls sewn onto the neckline. Terrwyn gasped as she brought it out of the box and admired it. “Oh, it is absolutely gorgeous.” She was smiling from ear to ear. “But how did you know about tonight?”

“My dear, it was Limil and I that helped make it possible. We spoke to the Captain and he agreed that we should give you at least this one night to feel like a princess instead of a prisoner,” Curuven told her. “We only wish things could be different and you did not have to leave us.”

“So do I Master Curuven, but I will hold out hope that this is not the end. I hope to return to Ithilien someday.” 

Limil interrupted. “Well, enough of these thoughts. You have a special engagement with a very handsome Ithilien guard and there is not much time left. I have had a bath drawn for you, filled with my favorite flower petals and scents. Go and enjoy some time for yourself and be ready by sunset. Feredir will be here then to escort you around Ithilien.”

Terrwyn hugged Limil and Curuven. “You have ever been gracious to me. I am very lucky to have gotten to work with you and know you better. Thank you for all you have done.”

“You are very welcome,” Limil said with a warm smile. “Now hurry before the water turns cold.”

* * *

Terrwyn sat nervously in the living room of the upstairs house. Limil had insisted that Feredir come for her there and not in the workroom or the patient waiting room. The dress was a perfect fit with its cinched waist and long flowing skirt and sleeves. The color looked very beautiful on her making her hair shine bright. She twisted the long pieces of hair that framed her face into curls that bounced when she walked. Terrwyn really did feel special tonight, which may have been the reason she felt so nervous. Why she felt this way she did not know. She knew Feredir quite well, but tonight seemed different.

Finally, Feredir arrived to escort her around the city. Upon first sight of her, his eyes danced and sparkled in the candlelit room. “I have never seen you look more radiant than you do right now, Naru,” he said, holding his arm out for her to take. He politely kissed her cheek and Terrwyn blushed.

“So is this what it is like to be courted?” she asked as he led her from the healing house.

“Well, I have never courted anyone either, Naru, so I would say this is very close to the stories I have heard, though usually the courting couple has not done all the things we have already.” Feredir winked at her.

They walked along the city streets, busy with the end of the day shoppers dashing in and out of different shops. It seemed to Terrwyn that Ithilien was always alive with people coming and going. It was a well-rounded city. Plants and trees intermingled with carved stone. The movement of water in its many fountains kept it from ever being completely silent. Life and the activities that came along with it were what made Ithilien an ever-growing city. Minas Tirith was much bigger with more residents, but it always felt a little confining to Terrwyn. Where Minas Tirith was a city that grew upwards towards the sky, Ithilien was a city that grew outwards, spreading along the lands and making everything beautiful once more.

“So where are you taking me?” Terrwyn asked after they turned down one of the many cobblestone streets.

“I must warn you, this is not exactly the most highly classed place in Ithilien, but it is one of the oldest establishments. It was my home away from home for many years, a place to meet with friends and catch up.”

Terrwyn looked at him curiously. “And dance with all the pretty maidens too I assume.”

Feredir smiled awkwardly. “I guess you could say that.”

“It is alright you know. We have both had experiences along the way, though something tells me you have had quite a few more than I have.” Terrwyn saw a tinge of pink on his cheeks and enjoyed making him flustered. It was not an easy thing to do to an elf like Feredir. “I will enjoy seeing where it was that you went when Master Curuven sent you away while I worked.”

Eventually they made their way to the tavern. It was set in amongst other buildings, all lined up one next to the other. It was a white two story building with black trim around the doors and windows and outlining the corners. A black oval sign hung out over the sidewalk, golden letters carved into it. Feredir stopped and observed the place before taking Terrwyn inside.

“Something is not right here. The place looks . . . it looks too nice, as if it has been painted and fixed up,” he said with suspicion.

“And that is a bad thing?” Terrwyn joked. “Though I will admit, for being the oldest place in Ithilien, it looks rather inviting.”

“That’s just it; it’s not supposed to look inviting. The Hallowed Leg is one of those places where you stop and think before you enter.”

“And this is where you have decided to take me tonight?” Terrwyn was a little disturbed by the thought. Besides, she did not get all dressed up just to go to some heathen bar.

Feredir took her hand in his and kissed it. “We will not stay.”

They entered the bar and were surprised to find it to be a respectable pub, clean and newly painted. Everything looked the same, just shinier.

“What has happened here?” Feredir whispered with disappointment.

Terrwyn smiled. “It is not as bad as you made it out to be. It is actually rather charming, in a . . . barbaric kind of way.” She noticed the giant bull’s head hanging on the wall, a big hook sticking out of its nose.

Feredir looked to his right, where Terrwyn was looking. “Oh that,” he laughed. “That would be Ol’ Barli. He was a gift from the men of Bree. When they heard that this place withstood the war and was being refurbished, the owner of their local tavern took it down from his own walls and sent it here. Barliman was his name, a friend of the owner here, some kind of distant cousins I believe. That’s where the bull gets its name, Barli.” Feredir led her to the area where Ol’ Barli hung. “Don’t tell me you do not have a place like this in Rohan. All men need a place to go to rid themselves of the days hardships.”

“Why yes, we do have such places, but they are no place that any lady would be seen. They are for the men only,” answered Terrwyn, still studying the bull’s head, its black beady eyes staring off into the distance.

“What, no women to try and woo into a dance?” he asked playfully. Just then, a fiddler duo began playing a lively tune. Feredir smiled. “Speaking of which, would my lady care for a dance?”

Terrwyn played the part and curtsied, then let her handsome elf lead her to the dance floor. Instantly, he twirled her around while holding her by the waist. She laughed and smiled as he made her feel as if she were floating. Feredir watched the joy light up her face. He had never seen her so happy and carefree. Other couples joined in, dancing to the lively tune.

When the song ended, the patrons clapped and left to find refreshment. Feredir and Terrwyn found a small table in a quiet corner. “Stay here and I will bring us some wine. I happen to know where they keep their finest,” he told her with a wink.

Terrwyn smiled and nodded, watching the way he walked across the barroom floor. He looked particularly handsome tonight in his black trousers and grey shirt with the vine pattern embroidered on the sleeves and down the front. He looked very elvish, more so than usual and she wondered why. He stepped up to the bar and a man with short brown hair and a trimmed mustache rushed up to take his order. Feredir said something to the man, who nodded and went off to a door behind the bar. It must have led to a backroom or an office of some sort. The man with the short hair came back and spoke to Feredir. Then he busied himself by bringing out a bottle of wine and two glasses. As he poured, the door to the office opened and out stepped the most beautiful and exotic woman Terrwyn had ever seen. She had olive skin, flawless it seemed, and long black hair. She wore a red blouse that laced up the front like a corset. The sleeves were puffy and hung off her shoulders. She was very busty also, something very noticeable as they seemed to barely fit inside her shirt.

Terrwyn watched as she smiled wide and mouthed Feredir’s name. When she came out from behind the bar, she trotted over to Feredir, breasts bouncing along with her, and hugged him. Instantly, Terrwyn’s jealousy began to bubble just below the surface. This woman was absolutely gorgeous and her arms were around Feredir, not exactly Terrwyn’s idea of a first outing with the elf she loved.

The two ‘old friends’ talked for a moment while Terrwyn waited. At least he could have brought the wine over first so she’d have something to do with her hands besides crack her knuckles. Now Terrwyn noticed the rest of her outfit, skin tight black leggings with a gold scarf tied around her midriff. This woman was very shapely, big breasts, thin waist and curvaceous hips that swayed most erotically as she walked. Terrwyn glanced down at her own body. Her breasts were normal for her thin build, but they did not look as tantalizing as this woman did. Terrwyn’s skin, though soft and smooth, looked pasty compared to the woman’s dark exotic golden hue. And though the young Rohirric woman was slim, she did not possess the curves that this beauty did. Had Feredir been involved with her, she wondered? And if so, why would he choose a pitiful thin pale girl like herself when he could have this vixen?

“Oh no,” she said to herself in a hushed panicked voice. “He is bringing her over here.”

Feredir approached Terrwyn, holding his hand out to her and helping her to stand. Then he kissed her lightly, but lovingly. Terrwyn was relieved to see his eyes still held that familiar sparkle as he looked at her. Her jealousy subsided somewhat, knowing that Feredir was not affected by the beautiful dark toned woman.

“Terrwyn, I would like you to meet Feona.” He held his hand out gesturing to the new woman. “Feona, this is Terrwyn.” The way he said her name sounded like a song and it swirled around in the air above her head. In that moment, Terrwyn felt her confidence return and knew that he still only had eyes for her.

She extended her hand to Feona. “It is nice to meet you.”

“And it is very nice to finally meet you too, Terrwyn,” Feona said with an unusual accent.

Even her voice was sexy, Terrwyn thought, as her R’s rolled off her tongue. There was not a man alive that could not resist falling for this beauty.

 

“Feona is a bartender here and has just informed me that she is now part owner of the tavern,” Feredir informed. “I must admit, I never thought I would see the day when old Marsden would give up his ownership. He has owned this place for as long as I can remember.”

“Yes,” Feona replied. “Marsden has made his fortune off this place, but he was growing tired and longed to move back to Minas Tirith with his family. He sold the bar.”

Feredir seemed surprised by this bit of information. “Well, if you are only part owner, then who owns the other half?”

Feona looked around the tavern until she spotted who she was searching for. “There he is now.” She waved to someone at the other end of the pub. “Antien, come here and meet a very dear friend of mine and his lovely new lady.”

Out of the shadows walked a male figure, tall and lithe, dark hair and glowing skin. As soon as he came into view, Terrwyn gasped, her mouth hanging agape. Feredir heard her reaction and turned to find that she had gone quite pale. “What is it, Naru? Are you alright?” he asked concerned by her reaction. She wobbled slightly and Feredir took her arm to steady her. “Terrwyn?”

“It is him,” she whispered in astonishment.


	43. Full Circle

“Terrwyn?” asked Feredir, watching her face wash to white.

“It is him,” she whispered, unable to find her voice. “It is the elf, the one from Helm’s Deep.”

Feredir looked back to the ellon as he approached. “Are you sure? It has been many years since--.”

“I would never forget him, Feredir. This is the elf from my childhood.” Terrwyn could not take her eyes from him. He was very tall with auburn hair, long and sleek. He had the same face, high cheekbones and almond eyes. One look and it was obvious he was an elf.

He approached the group and smiled warmly. Suddenly, Terrwyn was that six-year-old child gazing at him with such awe. If elves were made of magic, then he was celestial. Everything about him blazed like the brightest star in the night sky.

Antien walked up and put a hand around Feona’s waist. Feona smiled and seemed to blush slightly, though it was hard to tell with her dark skin. “Antien, I would like to introduce you to someone. This is Feredir, one of the Captain’s best.”

Feredir put his hand over his heart and bowed. Antien followed suit in a traditional elvish greeting. “Ah Feredir, I have heard a thing or two about you, one of our most frequent visitors. So what do you think? The place has really cleaned up has it not?”

Feredir looked around doubtfully. “A little too clean if you ask me. This used to be a place where we could come and not care about its decor.”

“Oh, and it is still that kind of place,” Antien smiled. “You are here early. The ruffians come later, after the dinner crowd has left. Then it is just as you remembered, though we do not put up with as much as the old owner did.” He laughed. “The occasional fight still breaks out and is usually settled fairly fast.” Antien’s sight turned to Terrwyn. “And who is this lovely lady?” She seemed quite surprised to see him as her mouth hung open. “Careful or you’ll catch a fly in your throat,” he laughed.

Terrwyn, still in shock, stepped forward and stood directly in front of the elf. “You said that exact same thing to me many years ago. I know you, but it seems you have not remembered who I am.”

Antien looked her in the eyes, studying every aspect of her face. Then he gasped as he realized who she was. “You . . . you are the child . . . from the Keep in Rohan. Yes . . . yes, I know you too.”

Feona seemed surprised by this and watched as the two slowly settled into acknowledgment. Feredir sensed that they needed to give these two some time alone. He held his arm out to Feona. “Come, tell me about the bar and Marsden.” He led her away to a different section of the tavern.

Antien realized they were staring at each other and looked away first. “Please, have a seat. I would very much like to know about you. I must admit, I have always wondered what happened to you and I hoped that you and your family were safe.”

A whirlwind of emotions hit Terrwyn like a ton of bricks. “Well, where do I start?” Terrwyn proceeded to tell him about her life after leaving Helm’s Deep. She started with her mother’s depression and living with another family, then the attack’s, her mother’s untimely death and Hathmund’s kidnapping. She went on about running away to Edoras and working in a stable, meeting Alric and being by his side when he passed. Reluctantly, she told him about her misfortune with Bregmund and hesitated as she told him she was responsible for his death. This was something she would always be ashamed of.

Terrwyn went on to tell him about Taldred and her escape, meeting Rosloch and coming to Gondor. She left nothing out and made sure to spend extra time explaining all the happiness she experienced so far, which brought her to Feredir. She explained her love for him and smiled every time she mentioned his name.

When she was done, Antien took her hand and leaned towards her. “I knew there was a woman prisoner here, but it is not my place to know details. Never in all my wildest dreams would I have thought that woman was you. I am so sorry that you have had to go through all these difficult times,” he said sadly. “I have not the gift of vision, but if I had, I would have been there for you and your family.”

Terrwyn did not know how to respond to this. “These things were supposed to happen, just like I was supposed to meet an elf singing a love song during one of the darkest days of mankind.” She smiled and looked down at their hands, Antien’s fingers intertwined with hers. “Do you have any idea of the influence you had on me? We met for only a brief time, but I have never forgotten you. I have kept you in my memory this whole time. Because of you, I have survived. I have always found a way.” Terrwyn paused and reached into a small pocket in the skirt of her dress. She pulled something out and handed it to Antien. He held his open hand out and watched as she placed a small wooden butterfly upon it.

“I remember carving this that day in the Keep. The war was over, but I waited to hear news from my loved one. We had not fought together since he was of higher rank than I was. I knew in my soul that he had lived through the night, but it was not to say that he was not injured.” Antien paused a moment and looked at Terrwyn.

“You mentioned him back then too, when you told me who the song was about,” Terrwyn added.

Antien laughed quietly and nodded. “You were a very intuitive child and you still are. Still, I was restless and worrying was never something I would tolerate for very long. I took a piece of birch from my pack, a broken branch from my homeland. I always kept a piece of Mirkwood with me back then. I began to think of everything I had experienced in my life, both good and bad. I thought of a butterfly and of all the changes it undergoes before it can truly live freely. I was reminiscing about my own life, but when I saw two small children playing in the broken breezeway, I knew I was not the only one. You were so little and I knew there was a whole life waiting for you outside of those broken walls.”

“I have kept this with me ever since you first gave it to me. I told it many secrets, made many wishes upon its wings. This little butterfly has seen me through many difficult times. In a sense, you were right there with me.” Terrwyn stopped as tears came to her eyes and a lump rose in her throat.

Antien placed the butterfly back into her hand and closed her fingers around it. “And we will still see you through.”

Tears ran down Terrwyn’s cheeks as she realized just how close the time was to leaving. “I will have to go to Rohan soon and stand punishment for my crimes. Things look bleak for me, but I will never give up without a fight. It is one of the most important things I have learned from the elves.”

Antien stood up and brought Terrwyn with him. Then he pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her. He cradled her as she cried and sang the same song from her childhood, quietly in her ear. When she calmed, he pulled her away to look her in the eyes. “That cocoon has not yet opened, and when it does, you will be free. As I said, I am not a visionary, but I feel it in my soul. You will be alright and your life will be your own someday.”

* * *

Meanwhile, Feredir and Feona sat at the bar, he in his usual spot and she in hers. Feona picked up a rag and dried a mug. “Look at you. You are absolutely beaming, Feredir. So, you finally told her you love her then.”

Feredir looked down at his hands that rest on the bar top. “You were right, Feona. You saw something back then and you were right. I think I had always felt something for Terrwyn, even when I didn’t know it. She is special to me. I just wanted to say thank you for making me open my eyes.”

Feona continued to work, but smiled at his admission. “What we had was fun, but it was not forever. I hoped it would be enough, but you are not the type to settle for half. You know, I’ve spent many months wondering what I would do if I saw you again. I feared what I would feel, but seeing you with Terrwyn makes me realize that I made the right decision. I am happy for you, Feredir. You deserve this.”

Feredir caught her busy hand, forcing her to drop the rag. Then he brought it to his lips and gently kissed the back of it. “You will find someone too, Feona.”

She smiled and then laughed. “I do not doubt what you are saying, but for now I will enjoy having my fun.” She looked up to the upstairs balcony opposite of the bar. Her eyes smiled as she looked at someone there. Feredir turned around on his stool to see whom she was smiling at. His eyes grew wide with the sight of the golden ellon leaning against the railing. There he stood barefoot in a pair of loose fitting white pants and his shirt unbuttoned, muscled chest exposed. His hands grasped the railing as he leaned forward and looked down upon Feona and Feredir, that sickening smile upon his fair face.

Feredir turned back to Feona, daggers shooting from his angry eyes. “Orthorien, this is who you chose for a mate?”

Feona grew worried instantly. Had she known when she first met Orthorien that he was Feredir’s brother, she might not have pursued him, but they connected so fast and before she knew it, he was in her bed making love to her like a beast. And looking at him now, perfect body and sultry eyes, she knew that would not have made a difference even had she known of their relationship.

“Now Feredir, we did not know when we met that--.”

“Feona,” Feredir interrupted. “He will only hurt you. I know my brother and he will not tie himself down long to just one woman.”

Feona started to respond, but Feredir jumped down from his stool and marched across the barroom floor. Terrwyn, who was still talking to Antien, stopped mid-sentence as she watched him rush to the staircase. From where she was seated, she could not see the upstairs balcony and did not know what was happening. The half elf bound up the stairs two at a time until he reached his brother. Orthorien took a protective stance as soon as Feredir made for the stairs. He knew this would happen, especially knowing that Feredir felt so protective of the barmaid.

Feredir got right in his brother’s face. Neither elf backed down, faces stern and teeth clenched, fists tightening ready to defend themselves.

“I have put up with many things from you Orthorien, but here I draw the line. Leave Feona alone. She deserves better.” Feredir’s voice was low and predatory.

“She is a grown woman and is free to make her own choices, just as you have made yours,” Orthorien responded in the defense.

“I never did like watching the games you played with your little trysts. You tried to teach me your ways, but I would not . . . could not hop from bed to bed and still have a conscience. You have gone too far here. Feona has seen hard times, been through many challenges. She deserves to be treated like a queen, not just another quick fuck. I suggest you get your clothes on and leave this place right now . . . brother!”

Meanwhile, Terrwyn and Antien went over to the bar to speak with Feona. “What is happening?” Terrwyn asked in a whisper.

“I’m afraid Feredir just found out the hard way that his brother and I are . . .,” she stopped and smiled shyly.

Antien watched these two dominant males fight for supremacy with words. It was only a matter of time before that tension broke out into something physical. “This is not going to be good.” He turned back to the black haired vixen. “Do something, Feona.”

“If those two start to throw punches, she will not want to be anywhere near them,” Terrwyn suggested. “Maybe we should both go.” Feona nodded.

Orthorien narrowed his eyes as he glared at Feredir. How dare he tell him to leave. “I will do no such thing. Feona and I have a mutual understanding. No one will get hurt. This does not concern you.”

“Do you think just because we are not together anymore that I don’t care what happens to her? I am not like you, Orthorien. I care about the ones I have been with even after we have separated.” Feredir’s voice was becoming louder with every sentence.

“She did not get over you so easily. She still pines for you, Feredir. If you cared so much, then why did you leave her for this troublemaker,” Orthorien shot back.

Feredir reached out and shoved his brother’s shoulders, pushing him against the wall. “Do not speak of Terrwyn like that. You are just jealous that she did not fall for your charms.”

Orthorien laughed fiendishly. “Oh, but you do not know how close she was to falling. Had you not come into the room when you did--.” Orthorien could not finish that sentence as Feredir’s fist struck his jaw. That was all it took and the two powerful elves were throwing punches in the upstairs balcony.

Down below, the two women saw what was occurring and started yelling for them to stop. They ran as quickly as they could up the stairs, while Orthorien and Feredir’s fists were flying. Some landed on their target and other’s only found empty air as they dodged each other. Orthorien slammed Feredir against the wall with an alarming thud, but when he swung his balled up fist at him, Feredir ducked out of the way.

Antien watched how quickly everything was getting out of control. Some of the diners left while others found better seats to view the fight. The chestnut haired elf knew that it was too late to talk them out of their fury and decided to take more extreme measures. After all, this was his place of business and he would not tolerate this kind of violence any more, least of all from elves. Quickly, he went behind the bar to retrieve something.

“Feredir, Orthorien stop this childish behavior,” Terrwyn yelled.

“It is not worth it,” Feona shouted above the grunts and groans of the dueling brothers.

They tried many times to get the elves attention without getting too close and becoming a target for flying fists.

Just when it seemed these two would kill each other before they would stop fighting, Antien yelled from below. “That is enough. This is a respectable establishment and I will not allow this kind of behavior.” His voice was loud and booming as it echoed throughout the bar. “Stop fighting now, or I will take measures into my own hands.”

The brothers stopped long enough to look down and see Antien standing on top of the bar holding his bow fitted with an arrow and aimed directly at them. “I have been an archer longer than both of your ages put together and I will not miss my mark. It will be a trip to the healing house for the next one that attempts another blow. Now, stand down soldiers and stop acting like such fools in front of these beautiful women.” Antien kept his arrow trained on the elves as they stood eyeing each other, chests heaving and fists still balled up. “I said stand down,” Antien yelled once more. From the corner of his eye, he saw someone next to him move. He did not need to look to know who it was for he felt his presence.

“Long has it been since I have seen you in such a state, hervenn and I must say I am enjoying it very much,” said a smooth sultry voice.

Antien smiled while keeping his keen eye steadied on the elves above. “Just doing my job as the new owner. And I must say, it helps having the Captain of the Guard as a husband. You have taught me much.”

Glandur, who never showed affection for Antien in public, smiled and touched his husband’s booted ankle. “And I may just let you teach me a thing or two later.”

When it seemed the brothers were done, Terrwyn ran to Feredir and stood next to him. Feona stood were she was, unsure what to do. While the brothers were this close to each other, she would not throw fuel on the fire by going to Orthorien.

“What do you think you are doing?” Terrwyn said accusingly. She looked at Feredir’s hands, noticing small cut marks on his knuckles. His eye was swelling rapidly and there were a couple cuts on his cheek. “This is your brother, for Eru’s sake. This is no way to treat each other.”

“You do not understand, Terrwyn. For years he has done nothing but--.”

That was the last straw as Terrwyn interrupted. “For years you have had a brother. For years, you have not had to worry about him. For years you have known he is safe,” she yelled. “My brother is gone, stripped from my life to leave me always wondering whether he is alive or dead. Your brother is here. He is flesh and bone. All I have is a memory and I’ll tell you, if my brother were here right now, the last thing I would do is start a fight with him. I would be telling him how thankful I was to have him in my life, how I wished nothing but the best for him, how I would support him in any decision even if I did not agree. I am sick of this . . . SICK I tell you.”

Feredir snapped back to the present, feeling like a fool for all of this. He took a step toward Terrwyn, but she shoved him away. “It is not me you should apologize to. Now, I am going downstairs and by the time you two come down, you had better have straightened this mess out.”

“I agree with Terrwyn,” Feona added with her exotic accent. “And if you have any thoughts of fighting again, don’t forget . . .” She stopped and pointed down to Antien, still aiming his bow at them.

Both women went downstairs and Terrwyn smiled as she saw Glandur there. “It is so nice to see you again Captain,” she called as if nothing were wrong. Then to Antien she added. “Thank you for your help.”

“You have Glandur to thank for that. He has taught me much about keeping peace and order,” Antien answered, now jumping down from the bar and standing next to Glandur.

“Oh, did you serve under the Captain?” she asked innocently.

Antien chuckled at her question and was dying to give some naughty answer, but Glandur shot him a look that said it would be his last time to ‘serve’ the Captain if he said anything of the kind. “No, my dear Terrwyn, though we have battled together before. Glandur is my mate.” He smiled and seemed to blush slightly.

Suddenly it all made sense as Terrwyn contemplated it. “Oh, so this is the elf you sang about in Helm’s Deep. What a small world it really is, but now that I know, I am not that surprised.”

Glandur whispered in Antien’s ear. “So you were singing about me were you?”

Antien turned to him and subtlety nudged the Captain, not wanting to draw too much unwanted attention. “I am always singing of you, if not with my words then with my heart.”

Terrwyn and Feona sighed when they heard Antien’s response. Every girl wanted to hear something this romantic from their lover, but theirs were too busy behaving like brutes. 

Feredir and Orthorien made their way down the stairs by now and joined the other’s at the bar. “We apologize for our roguish behavior,” Feredir said.

“Rest assured it will not happen again,” Orthorien added.

Feona went behind the bar and pulled out two bottles of their finest wine. “Let’s forget about all of this and start over.” She uncorked the bottle, handed everyone a glass and started pouring. They all took a seat at a big table, Feona bringing the wine over along with a loaf of bread, and started a new conversation.

Things finally settled down when they were joined by two more familiar faces. Legolas and his wife Rhavaniel strolled into the bar, arm in arm and exchanging loving glances at one another. Behind them came Master Curuven and Limil. The two couples joined the others at the table and the bartender with the short brown hair hurried over with four more glasses and another bottle of wine. He bowed to the Lord and Lady of Ithilien then went back behind the bar.

Legolas took a long hard look at Feredir and Orthorien. Orthorien kept wiggling his jaw and touching his fingers to his forehead where a large lump began to form. Feredir’s left eye had almost swollen shut and was beginning to turn a dark shade of blue. Feona noticed and waved to the bartender.

“Bring two towels and some water,” she told him.

Legolas stared. “So what did we miss?” he said nonchalantly. The others laughed or shook their heads while Feredir and Orthorien moaned.

“They are brothers,” Antien informed him.

“Say no more,” Legolas replied.

The bartender brought the towels and water and sat it between the brothers. They each picked up a towel and started to dip it into the bowl when Curuven stopped them. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch. “Stir this in first. It will help the swelling.”

Limil laughed. “Always the healer.”

The evening went on most pleasantly. Everyone told tales of love and war. At one point, Terrwyn was overwhelmed by the company that surrounded her. In her midst was a prince and a princess, a master healer and his multitalented wife, the head of the Ithilien guard and his mate, the elf that started it all, Antien. A tear escaped the corner of her eye and Feona couldn’t help but notice.

“What is wrong?” Feona asked putting her hand over Terrwyn’s.

“I will miss you all so much. I am not sure what will happen to me or if I will ever return to Ithilien and that makes this such a special moment to have you all here.”

“We will not stop helping just because you leave us,” Legolas admitted. “As you know, plans are in motion and until this is over, you will never leave our thoughts or laments. We will do everything possible to exonerate you and see you free. We know the truth, Terrwyn and we will be there for you.”

Everyone raised their glass and held it out in front of them. “Here, here,” they all exclaimed in agreement with their lord, the Prince.

Rhavaniel got up from her chair and plopped down onto Legolas’ lap, kissing his cheek. “I love you so much,” she whispered. They smiled at each other and gazed longingly, forgetting about their present company.

Antien watched, remembering all the difficult times he had seen the Lord and Lady go through. It made his heart sing to see them like this now and he smiled.

Glandur laid a hand on Antien’s thigh beneath the table. “You were right about them. You were always right. Le melin,” he finished in a whisper so that only Antien could hear. He felt more comfortable being himself while surrounded by friends and did not worry what anyone thought.

With the ambience of love passing around the table, Terrwyn snuggled up against Feredir. He wrapped his arm around her. “I am sorry, Naru.”

“It is alright. Let’s forget about it. Our time together is precious. Let us not waste another moment,” she answered.

Feona reached out and laid her hand on Orthorien’s forearm. He smiled at her, but then turned to Feredir, knowing this was what started their argument in the first place. Feredir looked at her hand on his brother’s arm, then to her face. She looked happy and he knew Feona would not do anything she did not think she could handle. She could protect herself.

He smiled at the dark vixen, then looked at Orthorien and gave an approving nod. It was enough to convey the message and Orthorien relaxed, wrapping his arm around Feona and allowing her to cuddle up to him.

The evening ended on a contented note with a table full of lovers, some new and some after many hardships, but for this one moment, all were enraptured by the magic of an invisible love spell. All was right. All was how it should be if only for this one moment.


	44. A Sense of Community

The day had finally arrived, Terrwyn’s last day in Ithilien. She spent the morning watching Master Curuven prepare a kit full of several healing herbs and solutions. He meticulously placed them in their proper bottles and satchels, then packed it all into a wooden box about the size of a book. Golden elvish runes decorated the top, indicating that this was a healer’s kit. He handed it to her when he was finished and told her to give it to Feredir so he could safely pack it away with their other supplies. Limil took care of the food, picking only supplies that would last during their long journey to Rohan, dried meats and elvish flat breads. She gave them only enough fruit that they could eat in a couple days’ time. It would be wasteful to send any more for it would ripen too quickly and turn bad.

After a quiet morning and a decent breakfast, Terrwyn went back to her room. She opened her closet and stared at the collection of dresses she had obtained during her stay in Ithilien. They were all so beautiful. It was a shame she had to leave them behind. It saddened her to leave everything behind. Ithilien now held a special place in her heart. Everything she had wished for seemed to come true in this wondrous land. Once she was alone and now she had a family with the elves she had met here. Her longing to meet the one she loved was answered in the form of a black haired warrior. Strength, power, gentleness and still a touch stubborn, Feredir was all she had ever dreamed of. Not a day would go by that she would not think of him.

And then there was the little wooden butterfly with its elegantly carved wings and intricate detail. She thought it was gone forever, but it came back to her. She could not keep it with her in Rohan though. She would be stripped of all her possessions but for the clothes on her back. It was ironic actually. She came from nothing and found a new world and new hope. Now it would be taken away from her once more. Why did it seem that she could not keep these things that made her happy and brought her comfort?

Terrwyn touched the pearls on the peach dress one more time, feeling their uneven edges and then the softness of the dress. “Perhaps someone else will come along who will need a new start on life. May these things bring her the same joy that I have found,” she said and then closed the closet doors.

Downstairs, Terrwyn found Feredir sitting in the workroom, talking to Limil. They were speaking so quietly, she could not hear a word they said. His silver eyes lifted and he caught sight of Terrwyn over Limil’s shoulder. A smile grew in the corners of his mouth, a smile that was meant for her alone. Terrwyn’s heart sung out to him, never wanting to forget those eyes or that smile.

Limil noticed that Feredir was distracted and turned around. “I knew you were there by the way Feredir’s face lit up. How are you my dear?”

“I am well,” she answered unconvincingly.

“May I take Terrwyn for an outing?” Feredir chimed in. “She seems to need a distraction.”

Limil smiled sweetly. “I think that is a good idea.”

Feredir stood and went to Terrwyn, offering her his arm. “Come Naru, there is something I would like to show you before we leave.”

* * *

They went to the stables, saddled the horses and headed out. He led her to a part of Ithilien she had never seen before. Here was an open plain with tall grass still brown from the winter. When Terrwyn looked closely, she could see tiny sprouts of green just breaking the dry ground.

“At the height of spring, this whole field is filled with yellow flowers that smell so sweet you feel as though you are drunk on their scent,” Feredir informed her.

“It must be beautiful. Reminds me of Rohan in the summer when the plains are alive with the smell of grass.” Terrwyn closed her eyes and remembered the days long past when she used to play with her brother there.

She looked beyond the field to where the land sloped up and just beyond that where the tops of trees just peeked over the crest of the land. “What is on the other side?”

Feredir smiled as he breathed deep. “That is what I want to show you. Come.” They left the horses to graze and he took her hand in his, hurrying across the field and up the hill. When they breached the top, Terrwyn’s eyes grew wide with amazement. The land descended into a valley where below giant trees grew, massive trees with smooth white bark. Their branches grew far above the ground and spread out wide, seeming to connect with each other and make the canopy quite dense.

“I have never seen trees like this before. What are they?” she inquired.

“They are a type of rare beech tree. It is said that they are distantly related to a type of tree that grew in ancient Doriath. Perhaps you have heard of it. Hirilorn it was called, meaning ‘tree of the lady’.

“I’m afraid I do not know of it.” Terrwyn loved hearing the old stories of the elves of long ago.

Feredir led her to a path that descended into the valley. As they carefully walked, Feredir told her the story of Hirilorn. “It was a magnificent tree in Doriath during the First Age. It very much grew in the same fashion as these here, but it had three great trunks to support its massive branches. King Thingol had a house built high in its canopy in which he sent his daughter Luthien to live. She was imprisoned there to keep her from running off to find Beren. Of course she escaped and . . . well, I am sure you know their story.”

Terrwyn nodded and gazed into the enormous forest. “And these are distant cousins of that tree?”

“It is only said in legend. I do not know if it is true, but there are no other trees that grow like these, not even the beech trees of Mirkwood.”

As they got closer to the forest, the trunks of the trees seemed so much larger than they did from the top of the hill. Finally reaching the edge of this land, Terrwyn looked up. They were like massive guardians, indestructible pillars. Above them was a canopy of green. “They are beautiful.”

“I believe they were untouched by the orcs because of their immense size. Now, some of the elves have decided to build a colony here and live as we once did when the world was wilder. They will build houses high up in the branches, circular houses in which the trunk of the tree will be their center. Rope bridges will connect the trees and buildings. Stairs will spiral to the ground and welcome all visitors, Men and elf alike.” Feredir paused as if looking for something. “Come this way. I will show you.”

They walked a little ways, following a stony path through the forest and soon came to a tree with a staircase like the one Feredir mentioned. It was wide enough that someone could pass easily. They ascended the stairs and came to a platform that completely encircled the trunk of the tree. Beyond this was another flight of stairs in the beginning stages ofconstruction. They could go no further. The platform was not very big, only wide enough to let another pass or stop and rest before carrying on. Feredir watched as Terrwyn had a look around from their elevated position, about the height of a three-story building. From here, Terrwyn felt as if she were standing on air. It was quite a drop to the ground below and still very far up to the treetops above.

Feredir pointed up into the tree. “From this platform there will be one more set of stairs and then a house at the top. I know it is hard to picture now, but eventually more homes will be built in this area and they will fill the trees. There will be bridges that take you to other talans and meeting halls, pulley systems to raise and lower supplies so that they won’t have to be carried up the steps. It will be a complete community of wood elves once it is done.” He ran his hand along the edge of the platform railing. “This one here that we are standing on, I built myself. This will be my home. I would have done more if I had more time, but . . . Well, now you know where it was that I went when Master Curuven did not need me.”

Terrwyn was amazed to know this. “And here I thought you were off drinking and doing other activities,” she blushed.

“It’s nice to know you think so highly of me,” he teased. The elf laughed with submission. “No, I was here helping to build the new colony. Further down the other way, houses are already built, but this is a new area . . . where my home will be and I felt it was my duty to help in the building of the new community.”

“You still manage to surprise me, Feredir. When I first met you, I never would have imagined you to be so compassionate. You were arrogant and aloof, thinking only of yourself and--.” She was silenced by a fiery kiss. When he released her, he stood back with a smirk on his face, looking rather mischievous.

“And what do you think of me now, Naru,” he boasted.

“You are arrogant and aloof, thinking only of yourself and--.” Again, he cut her off with another kiss even more passionate than the one before it.

Again, he released her and stood back. “I can keep this up all day and I will until you tell me what you really think,” he jested.

Terrwyn stepped close to him, wrapped her arms around his firm waist and pulled him to her. Feredir lowered his head to kiss her, his lips almost touching hers. Then she teased by dodging his kiss, making him work for his reward. He forced her to move back until she was pinned against the smooth tree, then he pressed against her. “You have not answered me yet. What is it that you really think, my beauty?”

She looked longingly into his silver eyes. “I think that you are arrogant because you are proud, aloof because you are protecting your home, and think only of yourself because you put your life in danger for those you love. All of these things will always be a part of you, Feredir. You will not change for anyone and I would not want you to. I love you for everything you are and everything you are yet to be.” She finally captured his mouth with her own and savored the taste of his breath and the scent of his skin.

When they parted, she laid her head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. After a long moment of silence, she whispered quietly. “I am frightened, Feredir. After today, my life will be upturned once more, only this time I know how one scenario will play out.”

Feredir sighed heavily. “I will not let that happen. I will do whatever it takes to set you free, even if I have to tear through the stone walls of your cell with my bare hands. I want you back with me, Terrwyn and leaving you in the hands of anyone else will surely rip my heart from my chest. Still, we must abide by their laws and I know that, but I will resort to desperate measures only as a final plan.”

“Let us pray it will not come to that,” Terrwyn sighed. She lifted her head from his chest and looked around at the forest and the new pathways. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Something you said a long time ago has stayed with me. You asked why the elves did not seem so elvish anymore. You said it seemed that we were just biding our time until we heard the call to sail. I wanted you to know that not all of us are anxious to leave Middle-earth. These elves here are ready and willing to build an entirely new community for our kin. Many of those who helped with the rebuilding plan to stay for a while yet. If we were all in a hurry to leave, we would not take the time to build our homes and live as we once did.”

Terrwyn looked up and caught a gleam in his eye as he gazed out over the giant forest. “You want to be one of those elves, don’t you? I can see it in your face. You do not look forward to leaving Middle-earth, yet you want to follow your kin.”

Feredir nodded. “I have never known a peaceful life as an elf and maybe that is the reason I am able to live in the city amongst men so easily. Most elves long to get back to peace. I long to experience it for the first time. This place,” he said lifting his arms. “This is what I want to do before I sail. I want to live freely as the elves were always meant to.” He pulled her by the waist into his strong embrace, tilting her head up and meeting her eyes. “And I want you with me, not in some cell in Rohan, not even here in the city. I want you with me.”

“There are so many things that could keep up apart. I am afraid to wish for this for I fear it may never happen,” she said sadly.

“Just leave things to me, Naru. I am going to find this man in Rhûn and when I do, you will be back in my arms.” Feredir kissed her, all his love and passion pouring from his lips. This was as much as either of them could hope for.

* * *

They returned to the city and to the healing house. After an emotional day, there was nowhere else Terrwyn wanted to be but in his strong loving arms. That night Feredir made love to her slowly and passionately as never before. He took his time with her, never being forceful, but rather deliberate and graceful, rekindling their love many times throughout the night. Then he gathered her up in his arms and cradled her while she slept, keeping loving vigilance over her until the sun began to rise.

Feredir laid the gentlest of kisses upon her shoulder and neck, rousing her slowly. Terrwyn awakened to find his eyes like the stars in the heavens shining brightly upon her. “Wake my little fox, my sweet Naru,” he whispered between blissful kisses. “It is time to start the day.”

Together they washed and dressed. Before leaving her room, Terrwyn took one more look around. She breathed deep, feeling as if she would never see this place again. She said a few words in her native tongue, a farewell prayer, then followed Feredir down the hall. Curuven and Limil were ready with a hearty breakfast. They all ate and reminisced a little, but there was not much time left. They needed to get on the road as quickly as possible. The first day would be long indeed.

Feredir and Terrwyn said their goodbyes to the Healer and his wife. Terrwyn shed a tear as Limil hugged her tightly. “May your journey be safe and may you come back to us one day,” the elleth sang in her beautiful elvish language. “We will say a lament for you every day that you are not here and we will sing with joy when you are with us once more.”

As they made their way to the Captains headquarters, Feredir took her through the center of town. They stopped briefly at the elvish fountain with its beautiful ladies looking to the sky. “This was the first thing I noticed when I came here. It is still the most beautiful thing I have seen. So many things seemed to happen around this fountain. It is a symbol of Ithilien and I will always remember it.” She dipped her hand into the water and watched it pool in her palm, letting it slowly seep through her fingers and drip back into the basin. Again, they walked on to their destination.

They came to the Captain’s headquarters and found their horse saddled and packs ready, waiting in front of the building. Feredir had yet to learn who the other elves were that would meet him in Rohan and was anxious to know. Just as he and Terrwyn ascended the stairs, Feredir’s best friend Horphen emerged from the doors of the building. He smiled wide and went to his friend.

“Feredir, how good it is to see you,” he greeted with hand over heart. Then he pulled Feredir in for a brotherly hug. Terrwyn stood to the side and watched the two friends smile, yet again another side to Feredir’s personality she had not seen.

Horphen stepped back and allowed his eyes to fall upon the red haired woman. “So this is who has kept you from the borders,” he commented, observing her from head to toe. “I think that I too might have a change of heart had there been someone as beautiful waiting for me to return.”

“Behave yourself, Horphen,” Feredir teased. “The lady is spoken for.”

“Oh, I would not dare cross your path, my friend,” Horphen answered.

Terrwyn stepped forward, coming to stand beside Feredir. “It is not his path that you need to worry about crossing,” she said with a sly look.

“Well taken,” Horphen said then bowed. “So, it seems we are on quite an adventure,” he said turning to Feredir.

Feredir raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Of what do you speak?”

“Why, this trip to Rohan of course. The Captain has chosen me as one of the travelers. He has informed me of the situation and of our urgent need to travel Rhûn.” He spoke in hushed tones.

“You?” Feredir said quite taken aback. “I don’t think I like the idea of my best friend going into the heart of danger while my lady too is challenged back in her homeland. Is there no one left behind that I can feel sure are safe during this time?” Feredir said frustrated. 

A new voice entered the conversation. “I’m afraid you will just have to get used to it, brother.”

Feredir turned to see Orthorien standing behind them. He instantly built a wall as he usually did when the golden elf approached him, but Orthorien smiled warmly and placed a hand on his young brother’s shoulder. “I am not here to make qualms. The Captain asked that I too join this venture.”

Feredir started to protest again, but it was Terrwyn that stifled his words. “It is obvious that Glandur only wanted the best and I think I feel much better knowing whose company you will keep,” she said looking at the other two elves.

Feredir brought his attention back to Orthorien. “And what about Feona?”

Orthorien bowed his head as if remembering her as the corners of his mouth upturned. “She understands more than anyone how important this task is. Feona can hold her own. You know that Feredir. I am not breaking any hearts if that is what you are worried about.”

Feredir looked from Orthorien to Horphen and back to Terrwyn. He shook his head, still not happy with the arrangement but knowing there was nothing to do about it. “Very well, but I still don’t like it.”

They met with Glandur, who informed them of the last bits of information. Feredir and Terrwyn would travel to Rohan, the elf speaking with Eomer on behalf of Lord Legolas, asking that he delay Terrwyn’s hearing until the elves returned with some evidence that might help free her. Knowing that Eomer was fair and just, he would wait to carry out his laws. He was a dear friend of Legolas, as well as having a sister married to the Lord and Prince of Emyn Arnen, Lord Faramir. Eomer was already aware of the kindness that the elves showed towards Terrwyn and they were sure the King would extend his ruling. Orthorien and Horphen would come along, arriving about a week or so after Terrwyn and Feredir. Then the elves would don their costumes and travel to Rhûn. 

With their plans well laid out, bags packed and ready to go, Feredir helped Terrwyn onto his horse. He was dressed in full Ithilien guard uniform, black tunic and leggings with silver embroidery of the tree of Gondor upon the chest. Terrwyn was dressed in prisoner attire, tan shirt and leggings and fully covered by a dark green cloak and hood. This was how the elves transported prisoners, keeping their identity a secret out of respect. They did not like to make a mockery of anyone, even someone accused of a crime.

Terrwyn was thankful for this small blessing. Not only did it keep her from feeling as though she was being paraded around in public, it also allowed her to be close to Feredir as they traveled. Her small frame contoured against his body while the cloak hid her.

Off they rode, through the cobblestone streets of Ithilien and out of the gate. There was someone familiar waiting by the iron gate of the city. As they passed by, Terrwyn recognized him as her childhood hero, Antien. He stood there, hands crossed and watching them leave. He managed to catch Terrwyn by her green eyes beneath her hood. He smiled slightly and bowed his head, closing his eyes as he did. Terrwyn returned the smile, though he could not see her in the shadow of the cloak. She wondered if she would ever meet him again.

* * *

The weather was turning warmer, but the nights were still very cold. Feredir and Terrwyn traveled as long as the sun was up, but when nighttime set in, they would not risk the young woman’s vulnerability to the cold. They looked for the occasional inn or farmhouse to stay, but there were not many places like this along the road so most of the time they made due in the wild.

The couple spent the nights in each other’s arms The closer they got to Rohan, the more nervous Terrwyn became and she found that just having Feredir hold her through the night was enough. Feredir comforted her every moment of the journey. He knew there was a good possibility that these may be their last moments together and he memorized each one with precision. He meant what he said though. If there were nothing else to be done, he would steal her away and live as an outlaw for the rest of his time rather than see her put to death. If something happened to Terrwyn, he would surely lose all desire to live. Escorting her to Rohan, to her death sentence, went against everything the elf believed in, but he knew there was no other way just yet. Getting to Rhûn and finding the one named Mazzin was his only hope in saving her for now. He just had get Terrwyn settled in and speak to her King. Once Orthorien and Horphen arrived, they would carry out their mission, if the dark haired elf could wait that long.


	45. Prisoner of Rohan

Rohan was mostly open plains, bordered by the White Mountains. Yet in the middle of that flat valley stood a single hill crowned by a golden thatched roof. This hill fort was the city of Edoras and its crown was called Meduseld, the King’s hall. Feredir looked off into the distance, studying the simple city. Its only protection was a high wall made of timber and the fact that only a single road allowed for access. It did not seem to offer much protection from enemies and now the elf understood why its people fled to Helm’s Deep during the war.

As they approached, Terrwyn’s heart leapt to her throat and she began to worry. Feredir felt her back stiffen against his chest. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Are you alright, Naru?” he asked as he leaned into her ear.

“It has just been a very long time since I have seen this place. I left on bad terms. I don’t suppose I’ll have any friends here anymore.”

Feredir kissed her cheek. “You have me,” he said as he watched her face flush white with fear.

Terrwyn forced a smile in return. “Yes and I am glad for this small comfort, but that is only temporary. Soon you will be on your way to Rhûn.”

“I must go. It is our only hope now. We will have some time before I must leave though,” Feredir answered to calm her.

“But I will be behind bars and they may not let you visit me. This moment, right now may be our last, Feredir,” she said as panic rose in her voice.

“You must keep hope in your heart and your faith in me. I will have you back in my arms, Naru if it means sharing a cell with you.”

“But you can’t, whatever you are thinking--.”

Feredir laughed and held her tight. “I am only teasing, my love. I will do nothing that will get me locked up in Rohan. You must calm yourself. It will do you no good to get so upset. I meant what I said. I will do everything within my power to have you with me again. I know I will find this slave. I can feel it. You know me; I thrive on victory and accomplish everything I set out to do. This is no different but for the fact that this time it is for you, not just for me . . . for both of us and our future.”

Terrwyn sighed and gazed at the distant shimmer of the golden thatched roof of Meduseld. “It has been a long time since I allowed myself to think I had any kind of future.”

Feredir turned her head and kissed her long and slow, savoring every feel of her lips upon his. Then he nuzzled his cheek against hers. “I want to be your future. I want to be in your life, Terrwyn, in that flet back in Ithilien or in a cottage in the city, or even in the wild forests of Middle-earth. Wherever you are, that is where my future is. That is where my home will be.”

* * *

The couple rode towards Edoras, almost to its gates. On either side of the road were mounds, graves of former Kings of Rohan covered in green vines. Terrwyn could almost feel the ghosts of the former lords looking upon her as they approached the gates. She pulled her cloak tightly around her and sunk back further in the hood, trying all but to disappear. Feredir kept a loving arm at her waist hoping it gave her even the slightest bit of comfort.

After speaking with the gate guards, the travelers were allowed access and started a slow climb by horseback up the winding dirt road that led to Meduseld. Rows of thatched homes lined the road and littered the hill, crammed in as close as they could. The inquisitive residents came out of their small homes to watch the new comers. The elf, dressed in his black and silver uniform, stood out prominently and the fact that he brought a hooded stranger peeked their curiosity.

Feredir did not like all the prying eyes upon them. He wanted to surround Terrwyn and make her disappear from view, but there was nothing to do. He sighed disappointedly, obviously irritated by the gawking townspeople. Terrwyn laid a hand over his beneath her cloak and whispered. “It is alright. They are just curious. It is not every day that an Ithilien elvish guard passes their homes.”

Now they were approaching the King’s hall. The homes higher up the hill seemed bigger and of better build. These were the homes of the nobles and well-off residents of Edoras. Most worked for the King and made their homes close to Meduseld out of convenience, but over time it became a thing of stature to live there whether employed by the King or not. These were the people of influence and the ones that Feredir worried about.

As they passed these homes, people were standing outside, glaring at the hooded rider. Terrwyn began to shiver. “They know, Feredir. They already know whom you bring. They have been waiting for this day.”

“It is alright, Naru. I am with you now. No harm will come to you,” Feredir replied as a means of comfort, but it was short lived as whispers reached the ears of the travelers.

“It’s that murdering wench,” some said.

“She will hang soon and our lives can get back to normal,” others stated.

Terrwyn tried to block out the sound of never ending whispers as they floated towards her. They sounded more like shouts than hushed voices and she was sure all of Edoras heard what they said.

They were almost to their destination and passing the last row of houses when Terrwyn’s eyes fell upon a particular couple standing close to the road. A husband and wife stood shoulder to shoulder, daggers shooting from their eyes. They glared at the hooded figure riding upon horseback. Terrwyn knew right away that this was Bregmund’s family. She could tell by the murderous look in the father’s eyes. She had seen those same glazed over eyes that night in the stable when Bregmund tried to strangle her.

The woman, obviously the dead man’s mother, absent-mindedly stepped into the path of the approaching horse, making them stop in the road. Her eyes were swollen and red as she tried to see Terrwyn beneath her hood and cloak. Her lip began to quiver as tears streamed down her face. “You bitch,” she said in a low drawn out tone. “You killed my son. You will pay and suffer death for this abomination if I have to string you from the gallows myself.”

Terrwyn gasped and shook, pushing back against Feredir as much as she could. The dark haired elf glared down at the woman. “Save your breath for the hearing. Then we shall see justice prevail once her story it told.”

The distraught woman could see that the elvish guard was obviously standing up for the criminal. “I don’t know what lies she has told you to make you feel any sympathy for her, but around here she is known as a coward, a thief and a murderer. Justice will prevail, no doubt, and my son’s death will be avenged.”

Anger boiled its way to the surface and Feredir was ready to jump down from his horse and confront these people. Terrwyn found her last bit of courage and whispered to her elf. “Pay her no mind. She has a right to be upset. Her son is dead. However, I will not be silenced anymore and my story will be told, the truth will be known.”

Feredir gained his composure and clicked his tongue, signaling for his horse to move on. This forced the woman out of the road and she went back to her husband. As they passed, the woman spit on the ground at the horses feet. All of this seemed very antagonizing, but Terrwyn could not help notice that the father remained silent during the whole exchange. She thought it odd that he did not speak up to either stop his wife or add his own threats. He just glared at her with those horrible eyes and Terrwyn turned away, never wanting to be reminded of Bregmund again.

Finally, they were at the foot of the stairs that led to the golden hall. Stable hands came and helped Feredir unpack his horse before leading her off to the stables, the same stables where Terrwyn worked so long ago. She hoped never to see them again.

Feredir stayed close to Terrwyn as they ascended the stairs and approached the great wooden doors of Meduseld. He spoke with the guards who in turn opened the doors. Terrwyn’s eyes grew wide. All the years she lived in Edoras, she had never seen the inside of Meduseld. It was impressive and a glorious site. Even with all of her troubles, she was very proud to be born into this heritage.

It was a long hall with wooden columns supporting its high ceiling. Carvings of animals and beasts decorated the columns, painted in gold and other earthly tones. Light poured into the hall from windows on the eastern side and illuminated many tapestries that decorated the walls. This depicted Rohan’s history, each one representing one of its great Kings. Terrwyn noticed that one of the hangings looked new, the material not yet faded from years of exposure to light and weather. This one was of King Théoden who fought bravely and died in the last war. She had never seen him, but as a child heard many stories about him from her father. He had always told her what a fair king he was, that all of Rohan’s kings were fair and loved their people, no matter who they were or what they did. She hoped her father was right and that this extended to the new King Eomer.

Entering the great hall, they were met by one of the tall Rohirrim. He was no different from any other man of Rohan, tall and broad, golden sun bleached hair that just touched the top of his shoulders and a full beard and mustache neatly trimmed. He greeted the travelers once they came half way into the great golden hall. Feredir gave him a proper greeting, bowing with hand over heart. The man nodded and welcomed the Ithilien guard. Terrwyn did nothing and further slunk back into her cloak and hood.

“Thank you for bring the prisoner to us. It was a very noble gesture by your lord,” the man started. “I am Erkenbrand, Marshall of the West-Mark.

Feredir stepped forward. “I would ask permission to speak to your King on behalf of Lord Legolas of Ithilien and of the prisoner.”

Erkenbrand glanced past Feredir to Terrwyn, still hooded and hidden from his sight. “I am afraid King Eomer is away on unexpected business. I am second in command and you may speak to me instead.”

Feredir hadn’t given much thought to this predicament. However, it wouldn’t interfere with his mission. “My lord, while the prisoner has been in our care, we have come upon some possible evidence that may change the outcome her tribunal. We know she is no longer in our keep or under our laws, but we feel any further punishment would be unjust. Lord Legolas, along with the Captain of the Ithilien guard ask that you give the prisoner a stay of execution until we can provide such evidence on behalf of the girl.”

Erkenbrand furrowed his brow. “This is an unusual request. I do not see how she is any of your business anymore. She is now under Rohirrim law.”

“We understand and respect this, Lord Erkenbrand. However, the girl’s story has always been a mystery to us as we have been allowed the time to examine her in a more lenient environment. We felt there was a piece missing from the situation and have just recently come to realize that there may be only one person who holds information that will help prove her story to be true. If my lord will allow our request to postpone punishment, we may be able to present this witness. The elves know of the seriousness of the charges and would not stand in the way of your decisions if we did not think there was good reason. Rohan is a strong ally of Ithilien and all of Gondor. We would not see the trust between our lands tarnished, but rather strengthened by passing on important information.” Feredir finished speaking and stood firmly waiting for Erkenbrand’s answer.

The tall Marshall stepped aside and went to where Terrwyn stood. He reached for her hood and lowered it, finding a very scared and pale faced woman, not at all what he expected. “It seems you have friends in high places.”

Terrwyn did not speak, but merely looked to the ground and nodded in agreement. Erkenbrand spoke again. “You did not deny the fact that you committed the crime of murder,” he said reminding her of her charges.

Terrwyn looked up into his brown eyes. “I admitted to killing Bregmund, but not to murder. I very adamantly stated that it was self-defense, my lord. I would never willingly take another’s life unless my own was in danger. That was my confession.” Her voice was strong as she spoke, determined to force these facts on the Marshall.

Erkenbrand turned, walking away from them as he pondered his decision. Feredir turned and glanced back to Terrwyn. His face was like stone, set in a permanent scowl, but his eyes spoke of the love he held for her. She focused on this and nothing else for that one moment until Erkenbrand began to speak again. Then they turned their attention back to the man.

“This goes against my better judgment and surely that of the court, but I will allow this stay. However, I must meet with the court to determine how long of a delay we will allow. My suggestion to you is to find your evidence and bring it back as soon as possible. The court nobles will not be as understanding, nor will the family of the deceased. They have already requested the tribunal be held immediately. They will not go along with the decision to postpone, but I will do what I can until our King returns. However, when Eomer King comes back to take up his throne, it will be up to him what happens next.”

“Thank you Lord Erkenbrand,” Terrwyn said in a quiet voice. She held out new hope now that the Marshall made his decision.

With the counsel concluded, it was time to take Terrwyn to her holding cell. They followed the Marshall through the hall and down a corridor to a set of stairs that descended underneath the King’s home. It was dark, only lit by scattered torches. The air was damp and musty. Feredir was reminded of the cells of Mirkwood’s palace, though this seemed a bit more ominous, as if a person could be forgotten about and left to slowly die. The elf immediately felt closed in, missing the sun and the sound of trees rustling in the wind. A place like this could truly be torture for a wood elf who longed for the forest. He shook off the feeling and regained his composure. He needed to remain a symbol of strength for Terrwyn.

Feredir had seen prisons like this before. He had seen how men were treated down in the dark recesses of this underworld. Things happened down here that no one could imagine. It was a well-kept secret, one that he did not wish to think about right now. He hoped that the people of Rohan were not as barbaric as these other’s he had seen. How would he be able to leave Terrwyn in a place like this? Yes, she was strong and even stubborn at times, but she was still a woman and this was no place for something so lovely. His thought brought him to their mission in Rhûn. Time was already running short. He did not trust what would happen while the King was away. Erkenbrand seemed fair enough, but he would only follow orders he was given. If the court overruled his decision to prolong her hearing then the townspeople might just get what they wanted. Hangings were seen as a form of entertainment in many lands. Rohan would be no different, but the hanging of a woman would be anxiously awaited. People would travel far to see such a sight. This thought only made Feredir feel as though he should already be on his way to find this slave, this one connection to the truth of what happened the night Terrwyn’s life changed forever.

They finally reached her cell. It was small with a dirty mattress on a rickety wooden bed frame and a moth eaten blanket folded at the foot of it. At least it was not on the floor where rodents could easily crawl on her. On the opposite end of the cell, across from the bed was a stone bench carved from the earth itself. All of the cells looked like this, holes carved into the sides of a dark tunnel with iron bars erected across their entrance.

Feredir had seen other prisoners curled up in the corner of their cells. Some looked to be Easterlings or Haradrim, probably caught spying along the borders or elsewhere. He grew angry to think that Terrwyn would be housed with these others. Surely, there was a place less dank than these cells. He had to remind himself just why she was here in the first place. She killed one of her own and the son of a man with stature no less. The dark elf believed her, that it was self-defense, but Rohirrim law did not excuse her from the act. He could see now that her fate was sealed. She would die. This would be her end. She would never return to Ithilien with him. He would never again know her touch or her kisses. She would be gone from his life forever and that was something he was not sure he could deal with. For the first time in Feredir’s young life, he felt the pull of his soul as if he wanted to fade without Terrwyn by his side. Being half-elvish, he had always thought this could not happen, that his human half would not allow his soul to fade, but love was stronger and fade he would without her.

He wanted to grab her in his arms and whisk her away from this place of certain death. He could not find the strength to leave her here, yet he knew to save her he must. Hot searing tears began to form in his eyes, but he clenched his fists, nails digging into the palms of his hands to stop it.

He watched as a guard unlocked the cell door. Terrwyn stood still a moment as if unable to move. The guard grabbed her by the arm to usher her in. Feredir stiffened at the sight of another touching her. Knowing this would upset the elf, Terrwyn glanced back at him and gave him a comforting look. Feredir calmed as soon as they made eye contact, however brief it was. While Feredir felt it was his duty to remain strong for Terrwyn, she was also his strength, showing him that she did not fear what was happening even though deep down she was terrified. 

The cell door closed and the guard turned the key. Erkenbrand turned to leave with the guard, but Feredir stopped him. “Do you mind if I have a moment alone with the prisoner. I was her warden in Ithilien and I feel I have come to know her. Please, if you do not mind.”

Erkenbrand looked at Feredir questioningly. Something shown on the elf’s face and the Marshall knew he was more than just a warden to the woman. He knew it could do no harm to give the elf what he requested and nodded without a word, then left Feredir alone to speak to Terrwyn.

Terrwyn looked around her cell. She was frightened and wished she could have never come back to her home. It no longer felt as such. Ithilien felt more like home than Rohan ever had. Living amongst the elves was like having family again. Having Feredir in her life was the love she had always longed for. It was all there within her grasp, just outside of the prison bars.

Feredir stood silently as he waited for the others to leave. When he was sure they were alone, he turned to the cell, practically throwing himself at the bars as Terrwyn rushed to him. Their hands wrapped around each other and they gazed into one another’s eyes.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Feredir said desperately. “I don’t think I can leave you here.”

“Do not waver from your original course, my love. I think there will be some time before the tribunal, but I know now that my fate is sealed. I will be put to death and the hearing will only be to decide how it will be done.” Admitting she was going to die was the hardest thing she ever had to say. “Feredir, I don’t want to speak of this, but there is a good chance that things will not go our way and I may never see you again. I want to tell you how much I love you.”

Feredir clenched his jaw tight and shook his head. “No, I will not accept this. I will not let that happen.”

Terrwyn went on, ignoring him, needing to tell him what plagued her mind. “You have to go on without me. You still have a decision to make one day. Choose your path wisely and do not let your mind linger on me when I am gone. Feredir, you gave me the one thing I have always searched for. You showed me who you really are and who you are meant to be. You gave me your love and I know how difficult all of these things were for you. Know that I will always cherish your love and if all we were meant to have was this short time together then it was enough. Since I was a child, I always longed to know your kind, but I would never have asked to be loved by an elf. I was part of your world for a while and it was the best moments of my life. I mean that with all my heart. Feredir, I love you so much, but I want you to go on if I should perish.” As she finished talking, tears streaked her face. Feredir reached through the bars and wiped them away. Then he watched as Terrwyn pulled the wooden butterfly from the safety of her pocket and handed it to him. “Take this, please. I need you to keep it safe now. I need for you to continue its journey in case mine is at an end.”

Feredir shook his head, slowly at first and then with complete denial. “No, you cannot give this to me. It is yours. It will always be yours.”

Terrwyn shoved it into the palm of his hand and released it, forcing him to grab it so it would not fall. “Please, do this one thing for me. If I should die, I would not see it tossed away like trash. Keep it and know that my journey has not ended. It will just continue in another world, wherever my soul is sent. And tell Antien that I will finally have my wings. I will finally be free of my cocoon.”

Feredir shoved his hand towards her, trying to get Terrwyn to take the butterfly back, but she refused. He finally gave up trying and brought the trinket to his heart. “Alright, I will keep it . . . for now.” His face turned to the floor and his shoulders slumped. Never had he felt so helpless. Here he was, still a few days away from leaving for Rhûn and Terrwyn was already giving up all hope. He could not stand to see her like this. Already she seemed a shell of herself, as if the cell walls were draining the life from her soul. The elf wanted to stay with her, keep watch over her, but he knew he could not. Neither could he sit idle any longer waiting for Orthorien and Horphen to arrive. Waiting was no longer an option in this desperate hour. He went back to the cell, grabbing the bars in a tight grip and looked into Terrwyn’s forlorn eyes. “This will not be your end,” he said. “I can no longer delay. I am going.”

“Going?” she asked confused. “Going where?” The sudden wild look in Feredir’s eyes worried her. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m sorry, Naru. I must leave. I’m going to Rhûn . . . alone. Already I must see you locked up and it breaks my heart. I’m going by myself to find this slave.”

Terrwyn really did not like what he was saying. “But what about Horphen? What about your brother? You cannot go alone into that land. If you are caught--.”

“I won’t get caught,” he said stubbornly.

“Feredir, you can’t do this,” she pleaded. “At least wait and go with the others.”

Feredir took her hand and put his face to the bars. Terrwyn leaned in and their lips touched. He kissed her as if he would never see her again and there was a very good chance of this happening. When he released her, he looked deep into her eyes, seeing her soul. “I would do anything for you. I would go to the end of Arda and back. I would give up my immortality and grow old like my father if it meant sparing your life. You do not deserve this and deep down I have always known it. I love you, Terrwyn. I love you more than life itself and I want you with me. I don’t want to live without you.” He released her hands and stepped away from the cell. “I am sorry, Naru. I have to go.” With that, he walked down the hall.

“Feredir no!” she yelled after him, but he disappeared around the corner and was gone.


	46. Enemy Territory

How long it had been since Feredir left her alone in her cell, Terrwyn did not know. There was no day or night in the underground jail. All she had to go by were meals brought to her, twice a day. Unfortunately it was the same thing, a chunk of stale bread and some kind of gruel. It was tasteless and usually cold with a hardened skin settled over the top. It did not matter anyway for she had no appetite as she wondered about Feredir. She was terrified to think of him going into that harsh land alone. This was no game. He was going into dangerous territory where the enemy had the advantage. She could have cried if she weren’t so angry. “Foolish ellon,” she said repeatedly to herself as she paced the dirt covered floor of her cell. As if she didn’t already have enough to worry about, now she feared for Feredir’s safety. “He did this on purpose. Why could he not wait for the others to show? That selfish, arrogant son of an orc . . .” But she knew she loved that about him, knew he was doing it for her. He would always risk his life for her no matter how much it infuriated her.

Days passed and finally there was a commotion at the entrance to the hall that housed the cells. She tried to see who it was by pressing her face to the bars. Were the guards bringing in a new prisoner or was this her end? Had Orthorien and Horphen finally arrived? Her heart pound wildly within her chest as she waited for her answer. Then the unmistakable sound of soft-soled boots made their way down the hall and the most glorious sight fell upon her eyes.

“Orthorien,” she called desperately.

The tall golden wood elf rushed down the darkened hall. He was shocked to see the condition the woman was in. She was pale and weak, eyes sunken and dark. She looked sickly and this angered him, but he hid his emotions. There were important matters to attend to.

“Horphen and I just arrived a short while ago. They tell me that Feredir is gone.”

“He left days ago. He’s going to Rhûn alone. Said he could not wait any longer. I begged him not to go, but he would not listen,” she complained.

Orthorien’s ire rose quickly. He slammed his fist again the iron bars of her cage. “Fool!” he shouted. “He will never learn. Ever has he been quick to make these kinds of decisions, always acting before thinking. He thinks he is invincible, that no harm can come to him, that he needs no one’s help, but I’m afraid he’s gone too far this time.” He calmed himself, thinking of Terrwyn and brought his attention back to her. His features softened and his voice turned to a whisper. “How are you, my dear? You look as though you’ve had a hard time of it.”

“I have hardly slept since he left and I cannot eat. All I can think of is Feredir out there alone. I fear for him, Orthorien. I fear for him more than myself,” she admitted as tears welled up in her eyes.

Horphen came hurriedly down the dark corridor. He gazed upon Terrwyn in her forlorn state and his heart sunk. “Oh, Terrwyn this must be awful for you. You should not be here in this place and it breaks my heart.” Then he shook his head. “And Feredir . . . This is just like in Ithilien. He was always dashing off away from the rest of the battalion. I should have known he would try a stunt like this. I was his battle partner and I should have known he would not wait.”

“It’s too late now, Horphen.” Orthorien calmed him with a hand on the younger elf’s shoulder. “He will be well on his way by now. We mustn’t wait any longer. The sooner we leave for Rhûn, the sooner we can find Feredir and the slave.” He turned back to Terrwyn. “I do not want to do this, but we must leave right away. I fear what kind of trouble he could get himself into. You know Feredir, he has a limited amount of patience.”

Terrwyn put on her best smile. “It is alright. There is nothing you can do here anyways. Hurry and find him before my worst fears come true. And when you do find him, tell him that I will be his worst fear.”

Orthorien laughed gently. “It is still good to know you have a sense of humor even in a time like this. We will return, my lady and hopefully with good news.”

Horphen smiled solemnly. “Stay strong, Terrwyn,” he told her as he followed Orthorien from the dungeon. When they were out of the hall but before they entered the room above, he stopped the tall golden elf. “I have heard word from some of the men that the family of the deceased rallies others. They mean to convince Erkenbrand to allow the proceedings to get underway. They do not accept the delay Feredir has convinced Erkenbrand of. I’m afraid Terrwyn’s days left will lessen.”

Orthorien sighed. “We must hurry then,” he replied and they rushed off to the stables with their packs. Once there, Orthorien turned to Horphen and placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping the younger elf from mounting his horse. Horphen looked at him curiously.

“You know in any other circumstance I would not ask this of you. You are a great scout and a fine warrior, but I think you are needed here more, with Terrwyn. Would you consider staying in Rohan and watching over the girl? Make sure she eats and gets some rest. She does not look well at all and this worries me.”

“I don’t think you should go alone, Orthorien,” Horphen protested. “The road into Rhûn is dangerous. How will you know where to look for Feredir once you get there? You said so yourself, my scouting abilities are sharp. If only one of us were to go, it should be me. I can find him quickly, get in and get out.”

Orthorien took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He is my brother and I know how he thinks. He is and has always been my responsibility. I will find him and together we will find this slave.”

Horphen gave up and bowed to Orthorien. “You had better hurry.”

The older elf put his hand on Horphen’s arm and with sincerity, he spoke. “You are a good friend to my brother and a most noble elf. I am glad we have met, Horphen.” There was an understanding in their exchange. They were in this together, trusted one another and would see each other through.

Orthorien mounted his horse in one swift movement and looked down at Horphen who smiled back to the warrior. “I will take care of her. You take care of Feredir. Soon we will have them back together.”

Orthorien nodded and sped off out of the stable, through the city of Edoras and out of its gates.

* * *

Feredir rode as far as his horse would allow, staying cautious during the day and traveling long under the cover of darkness. He had a sturdy horse who could endure the speed and time he put on her. However, he knew he could not ride her all the way into Rhûn for she was an elvish horse and the enemy would recognize this. He would have to leave her somewhere on the outskirts of the land. When he was close enough, he abandoned his horse, sending her off to find her way back to Rohan. He slipped into his Haradrim attire, black baggy pants and shirt, grey robes and a headdress made of different colored scarves. He tucked his long black hair into the cap, finding plenty of room to hide his thick mane. With the last remaining scarf, he wrapped it several times around his neck until it covered his chin and only his mouth, nose and eyes shown. Then he made his way toward the main city.

The sun was just starting to rise by the time he got to the borders. There was no wall, no gate and only a few guards. No one besides the Haradrim or a few Easterlings came this far and Feredir walked right in where there was a crowd of men going about their daily business.

A short fat man stood on a wooden platform. Behind him was a line of frail young men and boys, slaves being auctioned off to the highest bidder. Feredir’s stomach turned at the sight of their ribs sticking through their pale thin skin. So was the practice of the Southrons. Once captured, they kept the young slaves locked in dark caves with little food or water until their bodies were all but spent. By then they had no fight left in them and they were more manageable. They would agree to almost anything if only for a bit of bread in return. Feredir wondered about Terrwyn’s brother, how young he was when he was captured and the pain he endured during that time. If he was anything like Terrwyn, he would have survived the first stages of the process. He wondered where Hathmund was now, if he was still alive.

Feredir looked around a moment, taking in the sights. Colorful tents lined a dirt street. Streamers crisscrossed over the road, very colorful in bright red, yellowish gold and green. Everyone was dressed similarly to Feredir. The costume would suffice and labeled him as a man not poor or rich, but well enough. Someone of his stature could afford a slave, part of his plan.

Now to find Mazzin. Where would he look first? As he walked along he came to a building made of mud clay. It looked dark and ominous inside and Feredir smiled behind his scarf. This was the perfect place to start his search, the local tavern.

He stepped inside and all heads turned to the new comer. His silver eyes scanned the place, finding small groups of men sitting in particular spots throughout the tavern. The elf found an empty place at the bar and took up his perch, his elven ears listening to the different conversations. Luckily, Feredir was quite fluent in their language after years of fighting off such men on the borders of Ithilien.

It seemed that later in the afternoon there was going to be a rather long awaited auctioning of slaves. These were not just any slaves. These were men who were assimilated, long time servants who knew the rules. They came at a higher price, because they needed no training, unlike the young boys Feredir had seen on his way in. These were men who no longer remembered their former lives and were brainwashed into believing that this was the best life they could hope for now. They had survived all these years and would be loyal to their new masters. These were men who were only a step away from gaining the trust of the Southrons. If they proved their worth, they would be treated well and perhaps given some authority over other household slaves or property.

The man who acquired these slaves was highly regarded in this part of Rhûn because this was his clan, but how he obtained them was another story. He was a scheming man who would do anything to collect these highly sought after servants. Most of the time he won them in card or dice games. He would lie, cheat and steal in any way he saw fit, but that often led to bitter strives between the different clans. However, once they were sold to a new owner and money was exchanged, nothing could be done about it and so the man moved quickly, never staying in one spot for too long.

This would be the perfect opportunity for Feredir to find out about the slave called Mazzin. He listened carefully until he heard a group of Southrons talking about the auction, then he made his move, walking past their table and pretending to be interested in their conversation. He quickly switched to their common tongue and tried to disguise his voice.

“Ah, I see you too are here for the auction. I have heard these are some of the best slaves Abdan has collected,” Feredir said convincingly.

The table of Southrons looked up at the newcomer and one of them spoke. “I do not believe I know you. Have you traveled far?”

“I come from Far Harad,” Feredir answered. It was far enough away that he would not have to explain what clan he came from, but not unheard of for their kind to travel from the far south just to buy one of these slaves.

“That is quite a journey. Tell me, how goes it in the south. Does Gondor still send our people fleeing and take our lands?” the man asked. This was a well-known tactic testing someone new to Rhûn. The more Feredir knew, the more confident these men would feel talking to him.

“Those filthy barbarians will not give up until they own every last inch of our land. Still, there are some of us who hold out and fight for what is rightfully ours. As long as we do not bother them, they do not bother us. My lord buys his protection and so far, it has worked. He has sent me to try to obtain one of these fine specimens for him. Tell me, do you happen to know who any of the servants are?”

“That is an odd thing to ask. Their identity is kept a secret until after a purchase. I would think you should know this already,” the man said with suspicion.

Feredir could sense his reserve. “It has been a long time since I have traveled from my home and the first time I have been sent to purchase a slave.”

The men remained suspicious and did not answer Feredir. Meanwhile, another man approached him. He was shorter than the average Southron, who seemed to be quite tall. His dress told Feredir that he was not well off, but his fat belly said that the man had not missed a meal in a very long time. The combination did not sit well with Feredir. Perhaps this man worked for one of the clan chieftains and was paid with meals instead of gold. Feredir remained curious as the man eyed him and smiled. “Maybe I can answer your question. Tell me, does your lord look for a particular slave?” the man asked.

This must have been a stroke of luck for the dark elf. Suspicious or not, this seemed to be the man he needed to speak with. “Perhaps you can be of some help,” he said to the new man. They walked to a corner of the tavern away from prying ears. They sat down and the man called across the bar to a woman who worked there. He held up two fingers and the sultry young woman nodded. Then the new man laughed to himself.

“One of these days I am going to make her my next wife. Two I have now and she will make a fine addition, just as soon as her father decides to sell her. He owns this place and says she’s good for business.”

Feredir cocked an eyebrow. “I would not take you for someone who could afford such pleasures.” Feredir made a point to look at the man’s attire.

The fat man laughed. “Oh, this?” he said gesturing to his clothes. “I dress this way on purpose. There are those who would . . . let’s say . . . take advantage of my wealth. I prefer not to advertise it.” 

As he finished speaking, the young woman came over with two cups containing a dark hot liquid, a strong earthy drink that was a favorite of the Southrons. He looked up at the girl serving them. She was skimpily dressed in shades of green and gold, making her dark skin come alive. Her midriff was bare as was her arms. The green haram pants she wore were sheer and the elf could see her shapely body. She wore a thin scarf across her face, leaving only her eyes uncovered. Feredir thought of Feona and how she reminded him of his former lover, but there was fear in this girl’s eyes, something he had never seen in Feona’s. The young woman kept her sight on the glasses in her hands as she bent down, exposing her cleavage. The man Feredir sat with gawked at her and the elf felt very uncomfortable. It was obvious that this girl was taught this move and did not much care for the response she received. Now he could see why her father had not sold her yet. She was the draw for his tavern. She was nothing more than a pleasant sight for the patron’s eyes and probably brought in extra money to someone willing to pay for her services. Again, Feredir felt his stomach lurch at the thought.

As the girl sat his glass down, she accidentally looked at Feredir. She fixed her stare as she caught sight of his silver eyes and he feared she would see through his disguise. Then her features softened and she spoke. “Would the stranger care for a satisfying welcome? I would make it worth your while.”

The new man became agitated. “That will be enough from you, whore. Be gone. This man is not here for anything you have to offer.”

The young woman gasped and bowed repeatedly as she backed away from the table. Then the new man spoke. “Perhaps she would not make such a good wife. Already she has a wandering eye.” He took a sip of the dark drink and turned his attention back to Feredir. “So who might this slave be that you are interested in?”

“My lord looks for one in particular, a slave called Mazzin. He has heard that he’s been very loyal and hopes that he might now be for sale,” Feredir answered.

The man thought a moment. He eyed Feredir carefully and the elf feared he was suspicious. “Your accent is not Haradrim, though there is a hint.” Then he looked at Feredir’s silver eyes. “No, you are not a Southron.”

Thinking quickly, Feredir answered him as best he could. “You are correct. I am not of the south. I was a common slave once myself, but that was a very long time ago. I am here by order of my lord and master. He has sent men here in the past, looking for a new servant and they thought the one called Mazzin was the best choice. I understand if his original master is not willing to part with him just yet, but I am sure you know someone that can . . . change his mind.”

The man sat back in his chair and studied Feredir for a moment. He glanced over to the young woman behind the bar, who had been watching Feredir this whole time. When she saw the man looking at her, she immediately averted her eyes and went about her business. Slowly, the man brought his attention back to Feredir.

“Hmm, that name sounds familiar and if he belongs to who I think he does, I do not think he would be for sale.”

Feredir considered the man’s statement before continuing. “It seems to me that you know quite a bit about who is for sale and who isn’t. Perhaps you know how I might acquire this particular slave.” Feredir laughed. “As the girl said, I will make it worth your while.” At that moment, Feredir laid a small pouch full of gold coins on the table.

The man could not take his eyes from the pouch as he smiled wide. “Give me a few days and I will see what I can do for you.” His hand reached out to grab the pouch but stopped when a small dagger was suddenly driven with force into the wooden table.

“I do not have days,” Feredir demanded. “You have until this afternoon, otherwise I will go elsewhere.”

The man sat forward, still looking at the pouch. Feredir continued in hushed tones. “There is enough here to buy a new wife,” he said, glancing to the girl in green.

After a moment of careful consideration, the man nodded and laughed from deep within his throat. “Alright, I will be back here in an hour and we will see what we can do about this slave, Mazzin, but you better have double what you have in that pouch.”

“I have money. You just find me that slave.” Feredir reached into the pouch and took out a few of the coins, leaving the bag half full. He handed them to the man. “You’ll get the rest as soon as I’m sure the slave has become attainable.”

* * *

While Feredir was securing a lead on the slave, Orthorien was making his way to Rhûn. Since he had to travel by day, the going was slow and it frustrated him. Eru only knew what kind of trouble Feredir was getting himself into. As he closed in on the foreign land, he heard the far off whinny of a horse, Feredir’s horse as a matter of fact. The golden elf whistled, calling the beast. He was disappointed to see she had no rider. No doubt, Feredir was already deep into enemy territory. Orthorien had to hurry if he wanted to reach him in time, in time for what he did not know.


	47. Dangerous Games

Feredir sat in the bar, waiting for the man to return with news of the servant. He watched as a group men came into the bar, looked around and took a seat at a table across from him. One by one, they eyed the stranger. Feredir was becoming uncomfortable with the situation and he didn’t like the feeling he was receiving, but these were nervous men to begin with. The one constant truth for him now was the girl in green. She was easy to read and his eyes followed her body language. Like watching birds or listening to crickets, this girl would give him some kind of warning in her actions. Right now, she did not seem any more fearful than what was normal.

The group of men now scattered to different parts of the tavern, talking with other patrons, but all the while they watched Feredir. The elf decided to take up a safer place and moved to the bar where his back was covered and he could see all points of the tavern. The girl in green went about her business, cleaning and bustling about. When she came close enough to Feredir, he reached out and laid his hand on her arm. She jumped as if his touch burned her, but he did not pull away.

“You do not deserve to be treated like this,” he whispered. For some reason, he felt compelled to try to talk to her, find out something about her.

“It is not such a bad life,” she replied as she kept busy wiping the bar top with her rag. “Besides, there are others worse off than me.”

Feredir was sure this was true, but she was such a beautiful young woman and he hated to see how these heathens treated her. He knew what her other purpose was, besides waiting on tables and it hurt him to know that men treated her as a receptacle for their lusts. Still, this was her life and there was nothing he could do to help her now. “So be it then,” he finally answered.

“But thank you for caring,” she said with only a hint of a smile, afraid to show too much interest. She bent down to retrieve a mug from beneath the bar and used the opportunity to talk with him a little longer. “You are not who you seem. Your eyes give you away. I know your kind. I have met them before and seen what my people would do to an elf. You shouldn’t be here. You must leave.”

Feredir was shocked by her admission and fearful that she would tell one of these Southrons who watched him now. “As I told the man from earlier, I have a master and--”

The girl laughed quietly to herself, interrupting him. “Your kind would not be made into slaves. Your spirit would never allow it. No, you would be broken in a different way, used for pleasure and when your heart was spent and your soul had died, you would be tossed away like trash. Some of the men here look for more than satisfaction from their wives or the whores they keep hidden away, if you get my meaning. And you are much too pretty, too much of a temptation to some of them because you are an elf. You must leave now,” she warned again.

Feredir was surprised that the young woman would risk her life to speak to him and warn him, especially if she knew what he was. “I cannot go until I find this servant and I will only leave once I find him.”

The girl looked around nervously, biting her bottom lip. She seemed to be considering something. “Wait here and I will return in a moment.” With that, the girl picked up her rag and walked out from behind the bar. She started wiping down tables as she made her way to a door towards the back of the room. She was doing a good job of not causing too much of a distraction. The patrons paid her no mind as she fluttered around them. Finally, she glanced around and slipped through the door.

While she was gone, Feredir made a quick scan of the happenings around him. The Southrons he had been watching were still there, blending in with what the elf figured were the locals in town. They still glanced over to him from time to time.

The girl came out of the room where she disappeared to carrying a plate of bread and a bowl of something steaming, stew perhaps. She brought it to Feredir and sat it on the bar next to him. “Pay me for the food and I will tell you where you can find Mazzin.”

Feredir looked at her with surprise. “You know of this slave?” he asked desperately.

“I am not supposed to know, but I cannot help but see what happens around here. Now hurry and pay for this before they suspect something,” she ordered him.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin, flipping it onto the bar. The girl in green took it and slipped it into a pouch hanging from her bare waist. Then she slid the tray of food towards the elf. “Under the bread is a key. Behind the tavern you will find a door. Open it, follow the tunnel and it will lead you to a holding cell. This is where Abdan keeps his merchandise. Your servant is his latest addition, but you must hurry. I think he already has a buyer and he will be here soon to transfer the slave.”

“I cannot leave now. Men watch me knowing I wait for someone to return. If they see me leave the bar, they will become suspicious,” said the elf.

“Leave that to me. I will draw their attention away and you slip out quickly and quietly,” she stated. The girl in green started to move away but Feredir stopped her.

“Wait, why are you doing this?” he asked. 

She looked into his silver eyes allowing him to capture her stare for a moment. “I just want to repay the kindness that you showed me.” That said, she walked away.

Feredir watched the young woman walk over to a dirty table and start cleaning the empty mugs and glasses. She bent over very provocatively, teasing some of the men sitting nearby. When one man with a toothless grin reached out and pinched her rear, the girl in green jumped and spun around, slapping him in the face. Instantly the room was in an uproar for no woman was ever to strike out at a Southron man. The elf saw his opportunity, grabbed the key beneath the bread and slipped out the tavern door.

Just as his robes chased him around the doorframe and disappeared, the girl in green glanced to one of the men who had been watching Feredir. She gave him a dirty look, but the man just smiled arrogantly and signaled to the others. The one who seemed to be the leader stopped as he passed the young woman, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him. He bent his head down as if to kiss her, but the girl turned her head in disgust. The man just laughed. “You did well. Abdan will be pleased with your little act.” He leaned down more to try to capture her lips, but she twisted out of his hold. She had been forced to play a part in the elf’s capture. The girl hated what they made her do, but if she did not go along with their plan, something much worse would have happened to her. This was life in Rhûn, full of seedy men who only used women to their benefit.

“You won’t hurt him will you?” she asked.

“That will be up to him,” the man replied as he watched her brow furrow with worry. “Have a soft spot for him do you? You think he would steal you away with him, take you back to his tree hut or wherever he came from and treat you like a queen? Ha, he cares not what happens now, none of them do. I say they should all pile into one of their boats and rid this world of their nuisance.”

“Yea,” said one of the other men. “And throw a torch on it and watch them all burn.” The other men close by chuckled at the thought.

The leader grabbed the girl by the wrist, squeezing her hard enough to bruise her. “Now get back to work and act like nothing happened. When Abdan gets here, tell him his new merchandise is secured. And if you try anything, I will be glad to show you how I punish those that disobey.” He yanked her arm, pulling her to him and finally captured her lips roughly, making her wince in pain as he crushed his mouth against hers. She cried out, but her sounds were muffled. When the leader released her, he gave her a good push and she stumbled.

The girl in green reluctantly went back to her spot behind the bar and watched the men leave to go follow Feredir behind the tavern. She hated this, had tried to make the elf leave but he was set on finding the slave. She shook her head knowing what would happen next. If there was anything she could do, she would surely do it, but she was helpless.

* * *

Feredir found the door behind the tavern and used the key to unlock the latch. It creaked open, the sound echoing into the darkness. He took a torch from the wall, conveniently lit, and started down the long dank tunnel. It seemed to run beneath the tavern and was probably used for smuggling stolen merchandise . . . and slaves. The bar owner seemed to have more going on than just selling food and drink. He was letting illegal traders uses this place to hide their secret stock.

The smell became worse the further into the dark tunnel he went. It was wet and musty, human waste being the predominant odor. The elf pulled his scarf up around his nose and mouth to try to filter the stench. He heard the sound of tiny feet scurrying and looked down to see huge rats running along a metal rail that made its way along the bottom of the wall. He thought that was an odd place for it and wondered what the purpose was.

Feredir cautiously descended down the black rodent infested tunnel when the light of his torch danced upon what seemed like figures sitting on the floor. When he got close enough, he saw that the dark shapes were actually boys and young men, frail looking. There were four, all sitting against the wall with their hands behind their backs. Now Feredir understood the reason for the low rail. Their hands were shackled to the bar. They had no choice but to sit on the cold dirt floor with the rats and filth in nothing but their pants.

The boy closest to the elf looked up, squinting his eyes. The light from the torch was like the blazing sun and he turned his head away to protect his vision. The elf was utterly disgusted with what he found and soon realized that two of the boys looked familiar. He had seen them when he first arrived, as part of the auction. With no buyer, they were once again hidden away in their ghastly seclusion.

They all looked terrified and the elf realized it was because of the clothes he wore. They thought he was a Southron and that he was probably there to hurt them. He knelt down on one knee, holding the torch so they could see his face. “I am not here to hurt you. I am looking for someone, a slave named Mazzin.”

They all shuddered in fear and Feredir unwrapped the scarves from his head, allowing his pointed ears to show. The boys gasped at the sight of an elf, but one spoke to him. “Are you here to help us too?”

Feredir’s heart was breaking. How could he help them when he had other more pressing issues to deal with. “I promise to do what I can to help you, but I must find the one they call Mazzin. It is very important.”

The youngest boy shook his head. “I have never heard of him.” The others next to him shook their heads, but it was the oldest of the boys that spoke next.

“I have heard of him. From what I know, he has been a slave for many years, has gained the trust of the Southrons and that is an added commodity to someone like Abdan. He has tried for many months now to strike a bargain with Mazzin’s master with no luck. My guess is there is someone who wishes to obtain this slave by any means and has hired Abdan to see it done.” The young man paused and looked over the elf carefully. “And here you are looking for the same slave.”

“I am no slave trader,” Feredir said in his own defense. “And I’ve only recently learned of him, but I need to speak to him. He may hold important information that I have been searching for.”

“It must be very important for an elf to risk coming into enemy territory. I’ll tell you what, you help get us out of here and I’ll take you to find him. He may not be there, but it was the last place I know of his whereabouts,” the young man said striking a bargain.

Feredir glanced back at the other youths. They all looked so frightened and the elf’s heart could not stand it. He placed his torch into a sconce on the wall and knelt down to examine the shackles. Feredir shook his head. “I have no tools that I could use. I’ll have to find something and come back.”

Just as he spoke, one of the boys began to mumble. Feredir looked at him and saw his attention drawn down the tunnel towards the way out. It was too dark to see, even for and elf.

“They’re coming,” whispered another boy in desperation.

Feredir’s heart began beating rapidly. He hadn’t expected anyone to come in just yet, but realized he’d spent too much time in the secret tunnel. Now he was trapped with only one way out. His elvish hearing determined the sound of movement, feet shuffling along the dirt floor. He peered towards the entrance. The light coming from the door illuminated the silhouette of three Southrons making their way towards him. Feredir took a protective stance and unsheathed his throwing knives that hung at his side. His hand came up, holding one of his daggers. He took aim and threw the knife. The men scattered as the sound of the metal blade collided with the rock wall. Feredir missed, but he would not miss again. If he could take out just one of them, he was sure he would fight the other two. He raised his second dagger above his head and aimed. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in his neck, like a bee sting. He reached up and felt a tiny dart protruding from his skin. Instantly he became dizzy and disoriented. He released his dagger, but it did not go far. Feredir reached up and pulled the dart from his neck as he stumbled, using the wall as support. His legs gave out and he fell to the ground.

The three men stopped and waited before going any closer. “Do you think he’s out?” one of them asked.

“He is an elf. I don’t trust that the poison has truly felled yet,” said the other.

“He has not moved. I think he is asleep. We must be going quickly. Abdan is waiting for us,” said a third impatient man. He approached the unmoving elf where he lay on the ground.

The one who seemed to be the leader spoke. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The third man went up to Feredir and shoved him with his foot. The body seemed lifeless. He turned back to the other two. “See, he’s asleep. Now let’s--.” The man’s feet were knocked out from under him and he fell. Feredir was not completely unconscious, though thoroughly affected by the drug. The elf rose to his feet and punched the man as he stood. They broke into a scuffle, throwing fists at each other. The man landed a couple blows to Feredir’s cheek and jaw, but Feredir’s strength was not gone just yet. The elf’s fists landed into the man’s stomach and face, making the Southron stumble. One last swing and Feredir knocked the man unconscious and he fell to the ground. Then the elf slowly made his way back to his feet, using the wall to stabilize himself.

“I told him he was not out yet,” the leader said to the younger of the three. “Hit him with another dart.”

The young Southron raised his small weapon and with efficient aim, he breathed deep then exhaled quickly sending another dart towards Feredir. It embedded into his neck and he winced from the sting. This time he fell back against the wall, struggling to remain standing, but he slid slowly down the stone until he fell back to the floor. 

The two remaining Southrons observed him a moment before the leader spoke. “That should have done it.” They walked up to Feredir who was unconscious now. “Rouse the other while I bind the elf’s hands,” the leader demanded. “Abdan will be waiting for us. Hurry!”


	48. Keep Hope

Horphen walked down the hall towards Terrwyn’s cell. He smiled as he found her eating the meal the guards had brought her. “You are looking much better. Now, aren’t you glad I intervened?” he asked. After arriving in Rohan and finding Terrwyn in a deteriorated state, he went to the kitchens and used his charms to get the cooks to add some fruit or fresh stew to Terrwyn’s tray. It was hard enough to get the Rohirric woman to eat and the grey swill they fed the prisoners was not going to entice her.

Terrwyn finished the apple she was eating and went to Horphen, reaching for his hand through the bars. “I am very glad,” she smiled back.

“You need to get your strength back for when Feredir returns. Besides, he would kill me if he knew I did not take care of his lovely lady,” Horphen went on, trying to take her mind off her troubles as best he could.

Terrwyn released the elf’s hands and sat on a bench next to the iron bars. “Where do you suppose he is, Horphen? Do you think he is alright?” Her voice was distant as she searched her mind for a vision of her lover. “I miss him so much and I worry every minute that goes by.”

Horphen grabbed a small footstool and brought it over next to where she sat on the other side of the cell. “Oh, you know him. I think that Feredir is being Feredir.”

“That is what troubles me. He can be very reckless at times. I think Orthorien was right. Sometimes he acts without thinking and it gets him in trouble. Rhûn is no place for such careless behavior,” she said worriedly.

“Orthorien may be his brother, but I have been his battle mate for many years now. He doesn’t do anything unless he knows it is for the better of others.”

“Oh?” Terrwyn questioned accusingly. “And chasing a Southron halfway across Ithilien just for the loss of a few strands of hair is not reckless?”

Horphen laughed. “Well, he does value those black tresses now doesn’t he? But that is all just soldier stories. He went after that man because he threatened not only his life, but mine as well. If Feredir hadn’t shown when he did, I may be sitting in Mandos’ Hall right now. I was the careless one that day, not Feredir. He will go to no ends to protect those that he loves or considers friends. His only crime that day was ignoring a common rule not to run away from the battalion without giving word first. Had he gone to the Captain beforehand, the Southron would have escaped and maybe gone on to kill someone else.”

Terrwyn still looked worried. “He is not dealing with just one Haradrim this time. He is running right into the heart of the enemy . . . alone.” Terrwyn hung her head and looked to the ground. “I just don’t know what I would do without him now, Horphen.”

The brown haired elf looked at Terrwyn a long moment, studying her features and the amount of worry she carried on her furrowed brow. “You love him don’t you . . . I mean really love him.”

“I do, Horphen. He is everything to me. He is the air I breathe, my strength and stability. When everything else is wrong in the world, Feredir is all that is right. Without him, I do not know if I would have the will to go on. He consumes me somehow. I don’t know how to explain it, but without Feredir, I am just a shell. He holds my heart and my soul.”

Horphen watched Terrwyn and felt the deep love she held for his friend. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sounded like an elf right now. This is what we feel when we find our other half. There is a connection that binds us together and one cannot function without the other.”

His words brought another problem to the front of her mind. “Can . . . can I ask you something? I must know an honest answer.”

Horphen knew what she was about to ask and hoped he would not have to answer, but times were desperate and she would want to know everything now. He nodded slowly.

“If Feredir feels the same way I do . . .” She paused and took a deep breath. “If he doesn’t make it back in time and I am . . .” Terrwyn could hardly find the words.

“You want to know what will happen to him if you die,” Horphen finished for her. Terrwyn nodded. “Well, I know he loves you just the same and you know of his heritage.” He paused looking for the right words. “It is still possible, even with his human descent, to fade from loss and sorrow. It is not just a marriage binding that solidifies this outcome. If the heart is as deeply involved as it is for both of you, losing the one you love could result in despair.”

“And what about his choice? If he sails, will that save him?” she wondered.

“He could still choose to sail, but that does not mean he will survive. Not even Valinor could fill the emptiness. And to choose the life of Men will certainly mean death. Either way, it will be a harsh environment for him to live in.”

Terrwyn sighed and put her face in her hands. “It will be all my fault, Horphen. I should not have let things progress between us. It wasn’t like this in the beginning. I could have continued to ignore him or make his life miserable. He may have been safe in Ithilien and never even cared about me, and I would be here not destroying anyone’s life but my own. It was selfish of me to love an elf and let him love me in return.”

Horphen could not stand to see her in such a state. “Hear now Terrwyn, there is no use looking at hindsight. What’s done is done, but I’ll tell you this much. There was no other choice for him either. His heart was lost to you the moment he set eyes on you. It may not have seemed like it then, but he loves you too much for there to have been any other feeling. I’m sure he hid it well and denied it as long as he could, but it was bound to happen. This love between you was meant to be. And I’ll tell you something else while were being honest here. As long as I am in charge of watching over you, I will not let the Rohirrim take you away. I will threaten to curse them all with an ancient elvish spell handed down to me from the Valar of Doom himself, if that’s what it takes. You stop talking like that now. Feredir will return. If I know him at all, which I do, he won’t be alone either. He’ll find this witness. And let’s not forget Orthorien. He will search high and low for his brother. I imagine he’ll drag him all the way to Rohan by his pointed ears too, telling him what a fool he was.”

Terrwyn cracked a small smile at the thought of Orthorien disciplining Feredir even after all the good reasons for not waiting for the others. Horphen watched her eyes light up ever so slightly. “Now that’s a little better. Keep positive thoughts, Lady Terrwyn. It will all work out somehow or I’ll be the son of a goblin.”

She wiped the tears from her cheeks as she laughed. “I am very glad you are with me Horphen, and I cannot wait to get out of here so I may give you a hug.”

He held his hand up to the bars and she gave him her own. Horphen pulled it through just far enough to give it a kiss. “You are very special and I am glad you have captured Feredir’s heart. Deep in my gut I just know the two of you will be together once again . . .” He paused and laughed. “And eventually populating half of Ithilien.”

Terrwyn gasped in surprised and blushed before she laughed.

After his visit, Horphen went back to the King’s hall where he spent most of his time standing about and listening to the different people voice their random concerns. A mother wanted her son to join the ranks of the soldiers a couple years before proper age. Many Rohirrim men of different ranks reported to their commander about their findings on the borders. It seemed things were quiet for now, good news to Horphen’s ears. Then another man approached Erkenbrand. He seemed desperate to see a prisoner, though he would not say who. It seemed the Marshall already knew who he was there to see. Horphen listened carefully as Erkenbrand out rightly denied him access to the cells, saying it was none of his concern now. The elf wondered if he was there to see Terrwyn.

After much arguing, the man gave up and left the hall. Erkenbrand seemed disturbed at having to turn down this man’s request. He shook his head and was about to exit the hall when another older man came in. Unlike the other people that entered the hall, this man searched his surroundings, his eyes falling upon the elf sitting alone at one of the many tables. Horphen tried to remain somewhat out of sight so not to cause concern to any of the Rohirric people.

The older man’s eyes turned to slits as he gazed upon Horphen, who sat still in the shadows. The man turned his attention away from the elf as he called to Erkenbrand before he left the King’s hall.

“May I have a word with you?” the man asked quietly.

Erkenbrand nodded and went to him. The unknown man glanced once more at the hidden elf from the corner of his eye, then turned his back to him as he spoke to the Marshall. Horphen watched, trying not to look too concerned. Erkenbrand’s attention was focused on the man and then he looked over his shoulder to Horphen. The Marshall looked back to the concerned citizen, shaking his head and smiling slightly, obviously trying to convince him that the elf was not there for any reason and was harmless. This seemed to disturb the older man and he kept his voice low so no one would hear. He did not take into account the keen hearing of the elves, even at such low whispering. Sound seemed to travel quite well in the large hall. Although Horphen did not hear every word, he heard enough to understand just who this man was and what he wanted. This was the father of the man that Terrwyn killed and he was trying to convince Erkenbrand to move the proceedings of her execution along faster. The Marshall argued that this was not what the King wanted, but the man made note that the King was not here and Erkenbrand was. It would not have been uncommon for Erkenbrand to make such decisions while in charge. The Marshall almost seemed to consider the man’s advice and this worried Horphen. The elf waited until the meeting was done and the father of the dead man left the hall before he approached Erkenbrand.

“Surely you will wait a while longer. My men are retrieving a witness as we speak,” Horphen advised.

“It is not that easy, Master elf. People used to come from all over to see the hanging of an Easterling or a Southron, but lately there has been no draw. Now, one of our own and a woman no less . . . that is bringing people far from all over the Riddermark. Already, visitors gather in the city as word has spread quickly. The people will not be willing to wait for long.”

Horphen could not understand how humans would want to witness something so barbaric as one of their own people being executed. However, he hid his feelings and fed off his anger. “I would think you would at least wait for you King to return. He should be visible to his people over such proceedings, should he not?”

“It is not required and he has left such decisions up to me, though he would wish to be here this time. If the people become anxious and decide to rally, I will have no choice but to carry out the hearing and the execution.”

“Hearing you call it,” Horphen said angrily. “A hearing allows all of those involved to voice their pleas. The girl has no outcome other than execution. How can you consider this fair?”

Erkenbrand straightened up to his full height, which matched that of the elf. “It seems to me you have no say when it comes to Rohirric law. Murder is murder, Master elf, and this girl killed the son of a nobleman. The family wants to see her dead. The more cruel the execution, the more satisfied the family will be. They would choose to have her arms and legs tied to horses and rip her apart. This hearing that you find a waste is to ensure a more humane punishment.” The Marshall spoke as if this were a good thing.

“It matters not in which way she would die, it is still an innocent life being extinguished,” Horphen answered.

“That yet remains to be seen. Produce this so called witness before the people have their say, and we will see if she is really as innocent as you say she is.” Erkenbrand did not wait for a reply and walked out of the hall leaving Horphen standing there praying that Feredir and Orthorien would return soon. He might have overstepped his bounds with the Marshall, but he could remain silent no more. If he angered the man, he hoped it would force him to reconsider the elf’s words carefully.

* * *

Terrwyn lay on her begrimed cot that night, her thoughts dark and her dreams even darker. She kept seeing Feredir slumped over, his glow gone, his strength diminished. He wanted death but it would not come swift enough. His heart was broken and his soul extinguished. This was his fate should she die.

Sometime late into the night, Terrwyn was roused from her restless sleep. Someone was rattling the bars of her cell. Only the light of a candle lit up her visitors face. She blinked the sleep from her eyes as she sat up. “Horphen, why are you here at this late hour? Has something happened? Has Feredir returned?” she asked hopeful.

His smile was warm, but she could tell by the look in his hazel eyes that something did indeed occur, but he would not tell her. “Nothing to worry your pretty head about, my lady, rather I have brought you a visitor. We met earlier today and I saw to it that he was allowed at least one visit with you, for he has been denied many requests.” Horphen stepped aside as the outline of a man approached her cell. The elf handed the man the candle and instantly his face was illuminated.

Terrwyn looked at him with wide eyes. “Oh my, I never thought they would allow you down here. It has been so long. Taldred, I can’t begin to tell you how good it is to see you.”

“Terrwyn, it has been far too long,” the Rohirric guard said as he smiled at her. He reached through the bars and took her hands in his. “I prayed every day that it would not come to this, but here you are and now I find myself torn by guilt. I am so sorry, Terrwyn. Maybe if I had done more to--.”

“There was naught more you could have done and I thank you for everything. You know I could not have stayed. You know they would have hung me quickly,” she interrupted. 

“I know you are innocent and should not be here now,” Taldred said quickly. He glanced back over his shoulder. “Your friend has told me of their plans. So there was a witness?”

“There is someone who might know of the deal that Bregmund had with the Haradrim clan close to the borders, a message runner. It might be enough to free me, though it may be too late now,” she answered bleakly.

“Crowds gather already, but Horphen here has done what he can to convince Erkenbrand to delay things. If there were something I could do, I would not hesitate,” Taldred confessed.

“You have already put yourself in enough danger. Besides, last I heard you were courting Rosloch’s sister,” she smiled trying to change the subject to something lighter.

Taldred seemed to blush slightly. For many years, he yearned for Terrwyn’s attentions, but she would not return the feelings, though they became friends. “That was a while ago. We are married now.”

Terrwyn smiled. “I am so happy for you, Taldred. I knew it would happen. Lindiel was madly in love with you. I told her to seek you out. I just had a feeling it was meant to be.”

“She mentioned you often. She cares deeply for you and wishes she could see you, but you know our laws. It was only because of Horphen that I am here now. I can’t stay much longer, but I just had to see you. If the others are anything like your elf friend here, then I would say you are in good hands.”

“They are indeed,” she said smiling at Horphen who stood back in the shadows. “I have been very fortunate to earn the trust . . . and love of the elves. It is my only hope now.”

Horphen moved to Taldred and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We must be going.”

Taldred nodded, never taking his eyes from Terrwyn. “Keep hope, Terrwyn.”

“I will,” she smiled as tears threatened the corners of her eyes.

Taldred turned to leave with Horphen following him. The elf stopped and took her hand. “I will be back first thing in the morning.”

“Thank you Horphen. Thank you for this one small blessing.”

The elf nodded and escorted Taldred from the long dark hall. Terrwyn felt better, but worry was never far from her mind. She lay back down on her cot, closed her eyes and remembered Feredir. Her thoughts slowly gave way to dreams of the lush forest and of her dark haired elf, of the first time they made love and how he suspended her above the bed. It was then that she realized how deeply she trusted him with her being. Feredir gave her everything of himself that night, his love unconditional. He had confessed his love for her throughout the night, taken care of her, held her in his strong arms. Terrwyn lost herself in this dream, wishing Feredir were with her now, wishing they were still in her small bedroom above the healing house. She could almost feel him covering her body, his warm breath caressing her ear.

A cry from one of the other inmates woke Terrwyn from her dream. Memories . . . that was all she had now. For a moment, she thought Feredir was with her, but it was only a dream. Tears pooled in her eyes and spilled over. Her elf was far from here risking his own life to save hers. Fear settled into her heart. If something happened to Feredir and by some slim chance she was set free, what would she do without him? Where would she go? How could she ever escape the loneliness she felt without him by her side? He was her world. He was her life and without him, she knew she could not go on.


	49. The Slave Trader

Feredir slowly came to. His eyelids were too heavy to open yet and his head pounded as if he’d had too much dwarfish ale. He tried to remember what happened to him but his mind was in disarray. He remembered entering the secret tunnel and finding the slaves, talking to them and . . . yes, now he remembered. The Southrons had trapped him. He fought with one of them, but they had overpowered him somehow. He remembered laying a sound punch to one of their faces, but after that everything was a blur.

He moaned and tried in a feeble attempt to bring his hands to his face, but found that they were tied behind his back. As he moved, his ribs ached. He knew no one hit him before the blackout. They must have kicked him after he fell unconscious. Southrons did not trust the elves and for good reason.

The air seemed slightly cool on his skin and he realized that he was wearing naught but a loincloth. They must have stripped him of his clothes, taken his weapons and any other belongings. Southrons believed that the quickest way to make a man vulnerable was to begin with his dignity. They hadn’t taken into account that these things did not bother the First Born. Their strength did not lessen just because they were exposed.

“Make sure you have another dart ready, just in case he breaks his bonds. If he gets free now, he will kill us for sure.” The voice was familiar and Feredir strained his ears to listen to the accent. A dart, he thought to himself. Ah, that would explain it. They must have shot him with a sedative and rendered him unconscious. Cowards, he thought. They were too afraid to fight him hand to hand, knowing they would very likely fail.

Feredir tried to move again, but his body would not cooperate. However, he was still able to move his mouth and mumbled as he tried to speak, though his mouth was as dry as this blasted desert he was in.

“Water should do the trick,” demanded the same man that just spoke and suddenly Feredir was drenched with cold wetness. The elf roused further and was now able to open his eyes and see who his captors were.

He looked up, squinting through blurred vision and recognized one of the men. “You . . . you are the man from the tavern. You plotted my capture didn’t you?”

The man came closer to Feredir. “I will be the only one to ask questions here. So tell me, what is an elf doing in Rhûn?”

Feredir said nothing but glared at the man. He started thinking about all that played out in the tavern, the men who watched him, this man who approached him, the girl in green and the key. “The girl was in on it. It was all a trick.”

The man laughed under his breath. “And they say the elves are just mindless followers of false gods.” He looked up at the other Southrons in the room. “Seems our friend here has found us out, though a little late.” The others in the room mimicked the leaders laugh.

Feredir glanced around with new awareness and recognized the three men as being the ones from the tunnel. One was tall for a Southron and built rather sturdy with a broad chest. The other seemed young, not yet developed his strength, an apprentice probably. The third was the one he remembered. He was older man with scruffy hair and a toothless smile who Feredir had spoken with first at the bar. The elf came to regret his decision to start his search in that place, but there was nothing to be done for it now.

The dark haired elf smiled groggily at the older man and laughed to himself. “I guess you’ll listen to your friends here next time. My fist against your face . . . that is what you will remember.”

“Enough,” demanded the man in authority. “Tell me what you are doing here. Who do you work for? You are not who you say you are. No elf has ever become a servant of a master and those that are captured don’t survive for long. They are desired for other duties.”

“I work for no one. I am here on my own accord,” Feredir answered in a low tone.

“And it just so happens that you search for the one slave that has given me the most trouble. That is not a coincidence. I lost two good men trying to steal him away from his clan. Those lords in the north do not part with their most prized possessions so easily. I tried to purchase him but could not. You must know I will obtain my goods by whatever means I may, in this case infiltration of the clan and theft in the small hours of the night.”

Feredir thought about this. Slaves were traded all the time, even the best and most well trained. The fact that this clan leader would not bargain with this particular slave raised the elf’s suspicions. His master was the one doing business with Bregmund, trading jewels for land. The deal fell through and the slave knew too much. But why keep him? Why not do away with him so there would be no chance of the slave divulging any information?

“It seems you are going to great lengths to possess something that could not be traded,” Feredir said.

The man leaned down close to the elf, bringing his face next to Feredir’s. “Everything has a price, even you.” As the man spoke, his hand traveled up Feredir’s naked thigh. The elf squirmed slightly and spit in the man’s face. This purchased a fist to his jaw by the man who now wiped his face with a cloth, as well as checked his knuckles for blood.

Feredir felt the metallic taste fill his mouth were the inside of his cheek bled. He did not flinch, but sat there glaring at the man. It suddenly dawned on him just who he was dealing with. “You are Abdan. You are the slave trader himself.”

“Ah, you discovered my secret now haven’t you. As you know, there are quite a few people that would have my head. Unfortunately for them, those that discover my true identity rarely live long enough to pose a threat to my enterprise.” Abdan looked to the largest of the three men in the room. “Stand him up,” he commanded.

The large muscular man grabbed Feredir by his upper arm and jerked him up. The elf was still a bit wobbly and when he tried to keep from falling, he noticed that his ankles were tethered together so he could not walk. He stumbled and the man handled him roughly, obviously annoyed by the fact that he had to help the elf.

Abdan walked over to a small table placed in the middle of the empty room. Feredir took the chance to observe his surroundings. There was one door and one small window. The floor was made of dirt and the air smelled of old musty grain. This must have been a storeroom of some kind, but was now Abdan’s torture room. The dark haired elf’s attention came back to the slave trader, who had picked up something from the table. It looked like a stamp used to embed a symbol on a wax seal, with a wooden handle and a silver tip. Feredir could see the symbol of Harad upon it, a serpent. He began to struggle, feeling his ire rise. The large guard behind him grabbed the rope between Feredir’s bound wrists and pulled up. The elf winced at the sharp pain in his arms. Abdan turned slowly to face the elf.

“There is no escape from this room and even if you tried, you would not get far,” he said glancing to his left were the young guard stood, a wooden tube in his hand that housed the dart.

“I told you, I work for no one but myself,” Feredir shouted. “I know nothing about your robbery, but I have my own reasons to want the slave. I will pay you if that is what you seek.”

Abdan laughed evilly. “I’m afraid it is too late to strike any kind of a bargain. Besides, I already have a buyer for the slave, as well as you.” As he spoke, he held the metal tip of the stamp over a candle, heating it. Feredir realized what it was for. It was not only for sealing letters, it was a brand, the mark of a slave. “Actually, you have saved me from losing my head as well as my business. It seems someone has betrayed me and given up my secrecy to the clan leader who owned Mazzin. He sent out his goons to hunt me down and take the slave back. You see, to save my hide, I made an arrangement with the clan lord. He forgets about the slave and what I did to obtain him, and I give him a wood elf in exchange.”

Feredir gave him a confused look as he wondered how Abdan knew what race of elf he was.

Abdan continued as he heated the brand. “You see, I know more about you than you might think. People are my business and I am very observant. You are an elf of Mirkwood. It is very easy to identify if you look in the right place.” Abdan slowly walked over to Feredir carrying the brand. He reached out and almost seductively pushed the elf’s black hair over his shoulder, exposing his collarbone. Feredir stood naked, covered in nothing but the loincloth, and unmoving as he tried to control his temper. He was in no position to fight back at the moment.

The slave trader’s eyes traveled along Feredir’s fair flesh. His finger trailed along the elf’s neck to a black mark just at the front of his shoulder. It was a small tattoo in the shape of a leaf, an insignia given to Mirkwood warriors upon their acceptance into the elvish army. “To anyone else, this mark would be missed, but I know a thing or two about the First Born. Upon the flesh of every woodland soldier is a tattoo of a leaf, small and unnoticeable. It is a rite of passage is it not? I have heard that it serves more than one purpose. It is a mark of pride, but it is also placed there so in the event of an unfortunate beheading and defilement, the body can be identified and sent back home for proper burial.” He said this as his thumb lightly touched the leaf tattoo, not much bigger than the tip of one’s finger.

Feredir glared at the man, hating his voice and his condescending tone. Abdan continued. “Do you know how much money a woodland elf can bring? They are very rare.” He circled Feredir where he stood, examining his strapping body and seeming to enjoy what he saw. “They are very fine too, very difficult to break, but it can be done.” Now he came back around to face Feredir. “It is very difficult for me to just give you away, but it means my head if I don’t.” Abdan studied the red glow of the stamp. “Now let’s begin by erasing your identity.” Abdan brought the stamp up to the elf’s shoulder as he struggled. 

Feredir panicked as he watched the blazing iron stamp move closer to him. “Please, not there. Brand me if you must, but not there,” Feredir begged. The small insignia was very important to him, much more important than anyone could know.

Abdan smiled. “My, I do like when they beg. Still, you won’t be needing this anymore. You belong to the Haradrim now.” He jammed the red-hot stamp into Feredir’s skin, right where the leaf was.

“No!” Feredir screamed twisting wildly, but the large guard held his arms in such a way that he could not fight and seemed to lose some strength. The smell of searing flesh rose to the elf’s nose, making him fight his captors and try to back away but it was no use. The physical pain, though excruciating was nothing when compared with the destruction of this important part of Feredir’s life, something very symbolic and meaningful that he could never get back. Now it was gone forever, erased in a single moment. This alone was enough to weaken Feredir and his captor felt his body give way.

Abdan lifted the stamp and looked at the freshly burned skin. The black leaf insignia was completely gone, replaced by an angry welt in the shape of a serpent. Satisfied that the brand had taken affect, he went back to the table and set the stamp down. Now he picked up a switch, seemingly made from a willow branch. No trees like that grew here in the desert and Feredir wondered where this man had found it. It was only a passing thought and meant nothing but that Abdan possibly traveled outside of Rhûn. The slave trader went back to Feredir.

“Now here is something peculiar,” he started. “You are an elf, no doubt, but your blood is not pure, a half-breed some would call you. I’m guessing . . . Gondorian, by your features and the color and texture of your hair.” Abdan’s hand gathered a fist full of Feredir’s black hair and gently caressed it. Then he wrapped it around his fingers several times and made a fist. He pulled it hard, making Feredir’s head jerk back, exposing his neck. Abdan leaned in close and sniffed the elf’s flesh. “Let me guess, your mother was the elf, unusual. So who did she seduce and spread her legs for?”

Feredir’s body tensed at the mention of his mother and Abdan became rather excited knowing he had guessed the elf’s lineage correctly, angering him. He leaned in and ran his tongue along Feredir’s neck before whispering in his ear. “Dirty, naughty little wood elf women . . . always using their cunts to get what they want.”

At this Feredir turned into a trapped animal as he thrashed around trying to get to Abdan who jumped away quickly. A second guard, the older man that Feredir attacked in the tunnel, had to intervene to keep Feredir from reaching his target. When they had control of the elf, Abdan raised the switch and started whipping him across the chest and stomach. The raw wood dug in deep, slicing his flesh and making blood trickle down his body. Then he rushed up to Feredir, his hand lifting the loincloth, grasping the elf’s limp cock and squeezing, weakening him until he hunched forward. Abdan leaned down and spat as he spoke in his ear. “Try something like that again and I will cut off your balls. Don’t think I won’t. It’s the cock they all want anyways.” Abdan balled up his fist and pulled his arm back. Then he punched Feredir low on his abdomen, keeping the elf impaired. Abdan backed away and shook his head. “Definitely the easiest catch I have ever had.” He turned to the young guard, still standing in a corner away from the others, observing the scene. “You, come with me. We need to prepare the wagon for transport.” He pointed to the older guard. “You too, I don’t trust that you have any sense around the elf. He’s already knocked you out once. Come, there’s work to do and the client is anxious.”

The two men exited the room, but the third man, the tall muscular one still held onto Feredir. Abdan had instructions for him too. “Make sure he is well prepared. I’m sure the client will want to sample him before he makes his final decision.”

The large man smiled at the prospect of being the first one to break the elf in, but Abdan gave him a stern look. “And don’t make any more marks on him. When you’re through, clean him up. I don’t want to present him all bloodied and stinking with your stench.

Abdan left the room and closed the door behind him. Now Feredir was alone with this heathen, bound and weakened. The oversized goon looked around. “They didn’t leave me much to use now did they. No matter, I will make do with what I have. First though,” he said and kicked Feredir’s legs out from under him, making him fall to the ground. “That’s better. Can’t have you running up behind me and try to murder me now can we?” The man went to the small table and cleared it of its contents. He looked it over carefully and smiled. “Just the right height.”

Feredir tried to think of a way out of this situation, but his options were limited. If there were just some way he could get his ankles untied, he would at least have the use of his legs to fight. His strong muscled thighs could easily snap the neck of a man if he could get in the right position.

The man searched a shelf on the wall, checking the contents of a jar and a couple bottles. He seemed agitated. “Do they expect me to do this without aid?” He turned to Feredir. “Not that it matters to you,” he said and grinned a sickening smile. He went to the door, looked back to Feredir once more, satisfied that the elf couldn’t get back up being tied as he was, and exited the room.

Feredir rolled onto his back and tried to use the wall to help him stand. With his sore ribs, the drug still in his system stealing his full strength and his hands tied behind his back, he could not get up. He concentrated, trying to think of something, but there was nothing he could do now. He would have to wait until the man came back and helped him up. Once he was on his feet, perhaps he could fight him somehow.

After a few short moments, the man returned. He went straight to Feredir and grabbed him by one arm, lifting him quite easily. The elf was surprised at his strength to lift someone of his own build without much of a problem. The man stood behind him, his hot breath on his neck. “It will be a pleasure to break you in.”

Feredir cocked his head to the side hard, hitting the Southron and giving him a bloody nose. The man jerked back and grabbed his face. When he saw the blood, his eyes turned dark with anger. “Fucking elves,” he yelled and punched Feredir in the gut, making him double over. The elf was getting tired of being treated like a training dummy. When the man came at him again, Feredir threw his body at him with as much force as he could muster. It made them both fall to the floor. Feredir rolled onto his back and waited until the man came at him again. At least on the ground, he had a slight advantage and bent his legs at the knees as the man approached. Though his ankles were tied, he kicked his legs straight out, hitting the man in his crotch with his feet. That should keep him from wanting to do whatever it was he was looking forward to and Feredir wanted no part of this ‘preparation’.

The Southron doubled over into a fetal position on his side. Feredir took this moment to scoot along the floor until he was close enough that he could kick the man. The elf would not go down without a fight, hands and feet tied or not. He kicked the man in his back, lifted his legs and brought them down on the man’s ribs. Anything that would work in this position Feredir did, but he was still at a disadvantage and unless he killed this man, he would soon face his wrath when he recovered. The elf did not expect him to recover so fast though. On his third attempt to kick the Southron, the man caught Feredir’s feet and threw them to the side allowing himself room to roll away. The man got up, leaving Feredir lying on the floor, panting heavily, naked and bloody. He grabbed the elf by his long hair and pulled him up into a sitting position. His other hand grabbed the rope tied around Feredir’s wrists and pulled him painfully to his feet yet again.

“So you like it rough, do you?” the man growled and pushed the wood elf across the room to the table. With another push, Feredir fell forward, the edge of the table cutting across his injured stomach. Without his hands to brace him, it was a harsh way to land. Now he was completely vulnerable. He could not stand or roll off the table. All he could do was lift his head and keep an eye on the Southron.

The large man walked around in front of Feredir and stood there a moment, rubbing his back and checking his broken nose. The elf had fought formidably and done significant damage to the man, even though he was bound. He had underestimated the strength and cunning of the fair folk. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“Now I will break you,” he said with malice. He started unbuttoning his pants, but stopped when something distracted him. He gave the elf a ruthless smile and reached into his pocket. “I almost forgot.” He pulled something out of his pants pocket and showed it to Feredir. The elf became angry, struggling to get up, but unable to defend himself. In his hand, the man held the little wooden butterfly. They must have taken it when Feredir was unconscious. No doubt, they searched all of his belonging, checking everything.

Again, the Southron laughed as he turned the trinket many times in his palm. “So it seems this has some sentimental value to you. Perhaps I should set it on fire,” he sneered as he held it over the flame of the candle.

“No!” Feredir shouted, watching the edges of the wings begin to smoke as the wood heated. “Please, leave it alone.” His voiced changed to softer tones as he begged.

“Someone gave you this trinket, a girl perhaps. Yes, I think so. Is she waiting for you to return, spending lonely nights without you? Maybe someone else warms her bed while you are gone, someone much prettier than you. I bet he pounds her senseless every night as she screams his name over and over.” The Southron continued with his snide remarks, trying to get a rise out of Feredir, but the elf knew better than to give in to his foolish words.

The man could see this had no effect on the dark elf. “Hmm, something else happens to the girl.” He held the butterfly dangerously close to the flame again. “Tell me your story and I will spare your little carving.” He lowered the butterfly and its wings began to char.

“She’s been imprisoned,” Feredir shouted to stop the man from further damaging Terrwyn’s treasure. “She gave it to me for safe keeping.”

“And the slave,” the man asked. “What roll does he play in this?” Again, he burned the trinket.

“The slave may know something that will clear her name. Please, I have told you what you wanted to know. Spare the object,” Feredir cried, reduced to begging.

The Southron flipped the butterfly over a few more times. “It matters not anymore, now does it? You are here, the slave has been sold and soon your life will be rendered useless. I’ll tell you what, I will spare your tiny bauble.” He sat it on the shelf next to the jars and bottles, right where Feredir could see it. “There, something to help you remember the girl. You can think about your cock thrusting into her while I prod your pretty elvish ass. Better that you know about it now. Your new master will use you quite often; at least until your elf soul dies and you are no good to him anymore.” The man picked up a bottle from the shelf and resumed unbuttoning his pants as he walked around behind Feredir.

So this was it, Feredir thought. This was how it would end for him. He’d been stripped naked, drugged, beaten, whipped and now--. It seemed his lack of patience finally got the best of him. Wasn’t that what started all of this in the first place? Had he waited for his troops that day at the border, instead of running off alone to kill the enemy, he may not be here now, but he was here. He was here and Terrwyn was facing execution. He had tried to be the hero, but failed her instead. By the time Orthorien and Horphen came to rescue him, it would be too late. He would be a broken shell. Terrwyn would die in the gallows and all of this would be for naught. The butterfly’s journey would end. If he had only waited as he said he would, then none of this would be happening now. Maybe his brother was right all those long years ago. He never was meant to fit in, to prove his worth.

His eyes rolled up and fell upon the wooden butterfly. “I’m sorry Naru,” he whispered in his native tongue.

Meanwhile, the Southron stood behind Feredir, his pants undone and lowered below his hips. He poured a small amount of oil into the palm of his hand and stroked himself until he stood at attention. Then his greasy hand came down on the small of Feredir’s back after lifting the loincloth. “Oh, I am going to enjoy this. Bet you are a tight fit too,” he mumbled as he positioned himself.

Feredir turned his head to the side and closed his eyes, unable to look at the butterfly any longer. He braced himself for what was about to happen.

Suddenly, the door flew open and the Southron made a strange noise followed by a gurgling sound. Feredir lifted his head to the left and looked to the door. There stood Orthorien, tall and stern, dressed as a Haradrim. His eyes burned fiercely until they came upon Feredir. The dark elf released the breath he had been holding and sighed. “Brother,” he cried relieved.

Orthorien hurried into the room, closing the door behind him. He walked over to where the Southron lay on the floor, shoving him with his boot. A silver throwing knife protruded from his neck. “He’s dead,” Orthorien announced. Then he walked over to Feredir, seeing him naked and bound, draped across a table in a peculiar position. Instantly, he helped the dark elf to stand, looking him over at a quick glance. Feredir’s chest was covered in slashes, welts and blood. “Are you alright? Did he . . .”

“You arrived just in time,” Feredir answered. “He was just about to . . . when you came in, and not a moment too soon.”

Orthorien pulled another knife from his belt and cut the ropes from Feredir’s wrists and ankles. Then he chuckled to himself. “This almost reminds me of my first time,” he jested trying to lighten the mood. Feredir shot him a disapproving look. Any other time, Feredir would have become upset with his brother, not wanting to know about such things. This time he welcomed the brash elf’s comments. Orthorien pulled his younger brother into his arms, embracing him tightly. Feredir winced as his ribs hurt from the hug, but was glad for the familiar feel of family. “Are you sure you are alright?” Orthorien asked again, when he heard his brother moan.

“A little sore and bruised, but otherwise, I’m in good condition. My pride is still intact as well as other parts of my anatomy,” Feredir stated.

Orthorien looked around the room. “We have to get out of here before someone notices that a few of the guards are missing. I had to knock them out and hide the bodies.” He looked Feredir up and down. “Well, you will certainly draw attention if you go out there like that.” Orthorien looked at the dead Southron again. “You are close in size. Let’s strip him down and you can wear his clothes.

They worked fast, considering that more guards might arrive at any moment. “How did you find me?” Feredir asked as he unwrapped the scarf from the man’s head.

“As soon as I arrived I was approached by a young girl. She was in the market and saw me. I guess I did not blend very well and I seemed suspicious to her. She whispered for me to follow her and I did. She said she recently met someone who looked very much the same as I. When she described you, I knew it was you. She insisted on helping me, said she knew where you were being held captive. She also told me how she was an unwilling part of your capture and it weighed heavy on her soul. She seemed very distraught and wanted to amend her mistake.”

“The girl in green from the tavern,” Feredir remembered. “I believe they forced her to help them. I do not fault her. She was only trying to protect her own life.”

“There is something else,” Orthorien went on. “She knows where to find Mazzin. He is on a wagon ready to leave the city. I hope that it has not left yet. The girl said she would try to stall them for time, but we must hurry. If we can just take over that wagon, we can ride straight away from this forsaken land unnoticed. They travel light, though the guards are well armed. Just a single wagon was scheduled to leave Rhûn for Far Harad in the south. Supposedly that is where the buyer is located.”

As they talked, they finished undressing the dead man and Feredir dressed quickly. Orthorien was helping him wrap the last scarf around his neck when he noticed the fresh brand on Feredir’s shoulder. “What’s this?” he asked as his hand came up to touch it.

Feredir grabbed Orthorien’s wrist and pulled it away abruptly. The older elf looked his brother in the eyes, seeing them glass over as tears began to form. “Oh Feredir,” he said sadly. The black leaf insignia was important to all warriors, but none more than Feredir for it was put there by Callo, his human father.

“That was the one thing I had left to remember him by, but what’s done is done. There is nothing for it. My father lives only in memory now. Come, let’s get out of here.” Feredir finished wrapping the scarf around his neck, once again looking like a Southron. They started for the door, but Feredir stopped. “Wait,” he yelled to Orthorien. Feredir went to the shelf and grabbed the wooden butterfly. Then he walked over to the dead man and kicked him, the lifeless body flipping onto his front. Feredir spit on the dead Southron, went back to the door and followed Orthorien out of the room.


	50. Getting Out Alive

The elf brothers made it successfully out of the building where Feredir was being held captive. It wasn’t until the dark elf got out in the open that he recognized his surroundings. They were in the alleyway behind the tavern where he originally entered into the dark and secret holding cell beneath the bar, but about two clay buildings down from that. He thought about that a moment. It made sense that they would not have gone far from where they drugged him. What would it look like to carry an unconscious person through the city streets, let alone one as heavy as Feredir.

He looked up at the terra cotta square building and wondered what business it portrayed from the front. He tried to remember as he recalled the row of businesses. When he first arrived in the Harad town, he had other things on his mind and made straight for the tavern once he spotted it. It seemed that he had seen a store that might have sold bread or pastries. Feredir remembered the smell of yeast and stale grain in the room where he regained consciousness. That would make sense now. So it seemed these stores were for one purpose above ground and for different devices below. Had the owner of the bakery been as willing as the tavern owner to allow the slave trader to conduct his underground dealings beneath their livelihood? It seemed to be part of life here in Rhûn. Clear out an unused room or an old decrepit cellar and turn a cheek so that the crooks could do their dirty work and for a small fee no doubt.

Feredir remembered hearing stories from the older elves about how different Harad was at one time, how different its people were, long before evil rose again. They were honest traders, doing business with sea merchants and making an ethical living. However, as the days darkened so did their hearts as they were corrupted by empty promises and false hopes. Those days of peace and balance were long gone as Feredir came to realize while rubbing his aching sides.

Orthorien had to help him walk as he was still very sore and the drug had not completely left his system yet. There was no time to recuperate. The girl in green could only stall for so long before the wagon would leave or the Southrons noticed Feredir was gone. Already, as they walked down the alley, they received long stares, raising suspicions as to what they were doing.

“You have to try to walk a little more on your own,” Orthorien said after the third group of Haradrim questioned Feredir’s odd state. The older elf mumbled something about too much liquor and kept moving, hoping the curious onlookers would move on, but tensions were building.

“I am trying, but my insides feel as though they are mush and my legs will not cooperate just yet,” Feredir complained.

“Well try harder or we will never make it out of this place,” Orthorien shot back.

As they stepped out of the alley and into the busy street, Feredir did as he was told and winced as he stood taller. Orthorien stole a sideways glance. “That is better, but now we have a new problem.”

“What now,” Feredir said irritated.

“Your chest,” Orthorien pointed out and Feredir looked down to see a blood stain slowly growing.

Feredir looked at his brother and nodded. “Give me one of your wraps,” he said pointing to the older elf’s neck. Orthorien unwrapped one of the scarves and handed it to Feredir. The dark elf flung it over his shoulder, letting it drape across his chest and tied it at his waist on the opposite side, wearing it like a sash. It would have to do for now and covered the bloodstain, but it was only a temporary solution.

“Once we get to the wagon, you can rest,” Orthorien said with sympathy in his voice.

“Once we get to the wagon, we will need to dispose of the guards and take their place,” Feredir answered.

“I will take care of the guards. You just be ready to jump in so we can make our escape,” Orthorien ordered.

“What, and let you have all the fun?” As Feredir spoke, he winced in pain again. His ribs felt as though they were rubbing together, cracking even more than they already were.

“I will not argue with you now, brother. There is not much you can do in this state and I do not want you to risk further injury,” Orthorien insisted.

They walked up the dirt street, past the shops and clay buildings towards the main entrance. In this area were carts, street merchants selling small trinkets, scarves, dried meats and an array of other eclectic items. As they passed, the sellers called to them trying to entice them into buying their goods. The elves kept their heads down. Their stature was already drawing attention, but a good look at their eyes, ones shining silver and the other blazing gold would be enough to raise an alarm. The Southrons might be good at turning their heads from other Southrons, but outsiders would not be tolerated, especially elven intruders.

Still, the odd looks and stares followed them and Orthorien looked over at Feredir. He was slouching and slowing down. “It is just a little further, brother,” informed Orthorien. “Come, we will walk past the crowd instead of through it. I think it will draw less attention.”

A crowd of people gathered in the street as it approached the end of the shopping day. The sun was getting ready to set and the nighttime brought on a different crowd, rougher, louder and more cautious. The elves stayed to the outer edges of the crowd, who seemed to notice them less now. As they went along, Feredir walking behind Orthorien, the younger elf glanced up at his brother and noticed a silver tendril of his long hair start to drop from his turban.

“Orth,” he whispered hoping not to make much commotion. “Orthorien,” he called again but the tall warrior did not stop. If anyone noticed his fine elf hair, they would surely be discovered.

“There it is,” Orthorien said with quiet excitement. Looking between the passing bodies, they could just make out the top of the wagon made of wood with big iron wheels and a white cloth tarp fastened over its frame. 

Feredir heard a woman’s voice, demanding the men to stay and the men laughing at her, seeming to want payment for the favor of delaying their journey. The girl in green was now the girl in yellow, but it was the same one he had met in the tavern. He was not sure he trusted her after learning that she helped in his capture, no matter what her reasoning was. This could very well be another trap.

They ducked behind a stack of sacks and watched the wagon a moment, observing their surroundings. This would be a difficult way to steal the cart. It was in clear view, protected on one side by a wall of wooden crates.

“What are they saying?” Orthorien asked, not fluent in their language.

Feredir listened carefully. He could see the back of the wagon, but not the men sitting at the front. There were two work horses hitched up and ready to go. The girl stood to the side and towards the front, opposite from the wall of crates. Feredir’s warrior mind went to work seeking a way to get to the guards before being seen by them. “It seems she told them a little while ago that they must wait while a few items were being delivered. Now the men are anxious to leave and say they don’t care about the added delivery. They were not told of it and think she is mistaken. They will not wait much longer.”

“Then we have to move now,” Orthorien remarked, ready to ambush the guards.

“No wait!” Feredir demanded. “Let me get the girl’s attention so she knows we are here and can keep them busy while we sneak up alongside between those crates and the wagon.”

“Alright, but once I am at the front, you slip into the back and make sure the slave is really there. I’ll take care of the guards. No one will know what happened.”

“Are you sure?” Feredir asked concerned. He wanted more than anything to be able to take on one of the guards, but he knew his strength would not hold out much longer.

Orthorien gave Feredir one of his arrogant smirks. “It is what I live for,” he smiled.

Feredir peeked over the top of the sacks and waved his hand until the girl glanced over to him. He stared at her until she recognized his silver eyes and smiled. She seemed relieved to see Feredir after worrying about his fate and the role she played in it. The girl in yellow gave him one nod of her head and went back to speaking with the guards.

“Ah, here it comes now,” she said.

“Well it’s about damned time,” one guard commented.

Meantime, Orthorien picked up a small box sitting near the crate wall, pretending it was the delivery. He walked between the wall and the wagon, eyes carefully covered by his headscarf.

One guard exited the wagon seat and met Orthorien. “What took you so long, you ingrate? We could have been halfway to Far Harad if it weren’t for you.”

Orthorien pretended to be scared, bowing repeatedly, which allowed him to further hide his face. He did not understand their language so he did not answer.

The guard was getting impatient and snatched the box from Orthorien’s hands. “Give me that and be on your way,” he complained. As soon as he turned away, Orthorien stood at full height and grabbed the guard by his head. A quick twist and neck bones cracked. The guard went limp immediately. The man’s death was undetected except by Feredir who watched from the sack pile behind the wagon. One down and one to go he thought. The girl glanced back to him once more and he nodded to let her know everything was still a go.

Meanwhile, Orthorien rolled the dead body under the cart until he had a plan of disposing of it. He could hear the girl talking to the second guard who still sat in the wagon seat. Feredir took this opportunity to make his move and went to the back of the wagon. Before he went in, he peeked around to Orthorien who was waving him into the cart. From the conversation with the girl, he could tell that the second guard was not going anywhere soon and Orthorien would not know how to gain his attention in their own tongue. With a few hand gestures to his older brother, he told him what he was doing. Orthorien nodded and Feredir called from the back of the wagon to the remaining guard.

“We could use a hand back here,” the dark haired elf called in a disguised voice.

The guard mumbled something about never having a moments peace and jumped down from the wagon. He walked to the back and when he didn’t see his companion, he went to the other side where the crates were. There he found Orthorien holding the small box and gave him an angry look.

“What’s the problem here? Do you need me to tell you where to stick that thing,” he complained. “’cause if you do I can--. Umph.”

As he belittled Orthorien, Feredir snuck up behind the guard, grabbed his head and snapped his neck just at Orthorien had done to the first guard. Cautiously, the elves looked around to see if anyone took notice of them, but there was no one around.

“We can’t leave the bodies here to be discovered,” Feredir said as he scanned the area for a place to dispose of the dead men.

“I thought I told you to get in the wagon,” Orthorien complained as if not hearing Feredir’s concerns.

He smiled, though the pain he was in was more predominant. “As you said, brother, it is what I live for.”

Orthorien let a small smile creep upon his lips. “Well said.” Then he looked back at the pile of sacks where they originally hid. “I think I saw a tarp. Keep an eye out while I see what we can use.”

Feredir stood over the body of the second guard as Orthorien went back to their hiding spot to search for a tarp. The girl came around and met Feredir. She kept her distance from him, looking at her feet, ashamed.

“I . . .,” she started. She lifted her eyes but would not look directly at Feredir. “I am sorry for what I did. I begged them not to harm you.”

So much good that did, Feredir thought. He had trusted her and it angered him slightly to think she would betray him. Still, he could not help but feel sympathy for her either. Had she not helped, they would have used her, beaten her or worse. In Rhûn, it was every man, and obviously every woman for themselves.

His face softened as he noticed the girl’s regret. “You did what you had to do and I forgive you. All is well now.”

The girl glanced down and saw blood spreading from beneath the sash draped across his chest. She gasped and rushed to him, lifting it and seeing a bigger stain. “You’re bleeding. You need help,” she said concerned.

Feredir smiled through foggy eyes, trying desperately to maintain his false strength. “It’s only a flesh wound,” he whispered. Just as he reached out for the girl’s hand, the pain, the bleeding and his spent body gave way and he started to collapse. The girl grabbed for him and supported the elf. Feredir reached out with his left hand and seized the back of the cart before he fell to the ground. With the girl’s help, she got him into the back of the wagon. He looked closely and saw a curled up pile of Southron clothes lying to one side. At a closer inspection, he discovered that it was indeed a man, the slave Mazzin, unconscious, probably drugged for the ride to Far Harad. He seemed to breathe easily in long deep breaths and Feredir was satisfied that he was in good health, at least for a slave, and in better shape than the elf. Unable to do anymore, Feredir lay down on the opposite side of the wagon and let himself fall into an elvish healing sleep.

Orthorien returned with a soiled canvas and saw that Feredir was gone. The girl in yellow pointed to the back of the wagon and the warrior peeked inside, seeing two bodies. “You are sure that is Mazzin?” he asked her.

“Very sure. I had seen him once before and heard Abdan call to him. It is the same man,” she answered.

Orthorien set to work moving the dead guards over by the sack pile. He rolled them up in the tarp and situated them so they looked like part of the pile, but for the color of the canvas. It was dirty and grey where the sacks were cleaner and white with writing on them. It would do long enough to get out of the city before anyone noticed the dead bodies or before Abdan discovered that Feredir was missing.

When Orthorien was finished, he went to the front of the wagon, checked the horses to make sure they were hitched properly and jumped up with catlike grace onto the seat at the front of the wagon. The girl in yellow stood on the opposite side and smiled. “I am glad I found you and I’m glad you found him,” she said glancing to the back where Feredir was.

“Considered your debt repaid in the eyes of the Valar, my lady.”

She blushed at his reference to her. No one had ever called her a lady before. “Come with us, lady in gold. Rhûn is no place for such a beautiful woman as yourself. I know someone in Ithilien. She is of the same heritage as you, though she has never lived amongst your people. She would give you shelter and work; help you make a life for yourself. You would be free of this deprived environment.”

He had no idea how badly she wanted this. It may be her only opportunity to leave this land, something that until now was only ever a far off wish upon a star she could never reach. However, her father knew too much, was too involved with the underworld of Harad. Out of fear of her wagging her tongue, he would pursue her until she was captured and then there was no telling what would happen to her. Death would be her best guess, but death to other’s was her main concern.

She shook her head slowly. “No, I’m afraid I would only bring harm to you and your friends and family. I cannot leave. My father would never stop looking for me.”

There was no time to argue and Orthorien sensed the girl’s resistance to leave. He smiled warmly to her, his golden eyes capturing her. “Stay safe, my lady. Maybe one day I will see you again and you will be free.”

“Perhaps,” she smiled back. “Remember to follow the road until you come to the stone markers. That is the border. After that you should be safe, but keep an eye out. All roads are watched carefully by my people.”

Orthorien nodded and held her in his gaze a moment longer. Then he gave her a wink and shook the reins, starting the horses on their path. The wagon moved along towards the gates, his last obstacle. It had been easy to sneak into the city on foot. No one questioned him, but leaving in a wagon would raise an eyebrow. As he approached, he checked himself and found the loose hair that had fallen out of his headpiece. Quickly, he tucked it back up, pulled the front down around his eyes and hoped for the best.

A guard, as wide in the belly as he was tall it seemed, gave him a hard look. He asked Orthorien a question. Though the elf did not speak their language, he knew the man asked about his load. The golden warrior only knew a few words and that was enough.

“Transporting slaves,” he said in their tongue, though his accent was obviously broken. The fat guard furrowed his brow and Orthorien nodded his head toward the back of the wagon. The gate guard called to another man, who went to the back and pulled open the canvas flaps. Seeing the bodies in the back, he called up to his boss and held up two fingers. The gatekeeper glared at Orthorien a moment longer then grunted his approval. The elf wasn’t sure whether the man was satisfied or not, but it seemed to work. Out of the gates they went, slowly but at a steady pace. The sooner they were out of this horrible land, the better. Unless he was under orders, Orthorien would never want to return to Rhûn or any other place where the Haradrim dwelt. They were a very dangerous and bloodthirsty race of men, stupid at times and ruthless at others. Well, it was done now. He had Feredir and the slave. Now hopefully he would get them all back to Rohan before it was too late for Terrwyn. Orthorien said a silent prayer for Horphen, hoping he had been able to keep the peace with the Rohirrim.


	51. Reconciliation

Feredir’s dreams were dark and uneasy. Giant black horse shadows ran wildly back and forth, their large hooves making the ground quake. Every now and then, he would catch a glimpse of red hair through a break between the bodies of the passing herd. The smell of roses filled his head. “Terrwyn,” he whispered desperately. Try as he might, he could not go past the never ending heard of horses. They would not let him get to her. She was crying and weak. Her eyes were sunken and grey. Death was close, so close now that he could hear its eternal sleepy whisper.

But he had the slave. He was sure of it, had seen him before he fell unconscious. He looked into the back of the wagon and saw a shape. His hand reached out and removed the cover only to find a skeleton. The slave was long dead along with his secrets that would save Terrwyn’s life. Feredir yelled and nothing came out but desert sand and he felt his throat start to close. Suddenly he could not breathe. The elf began to panic and grabbed at his dry gritty throat when suddenly he felt a cool breeze. He looked up to see a large colorful butterfly flapping its delicate wings in slow motion, cooling him and giving him the air he needed. Feredir gasped for the wind created by the butterfly and heard Terrwyn’s sweet voice on the breeze.

“Finish the butterfly’s journey for me now, Feredir. It is yours to carry out,” she called to him in a ghostly voice.

The butterfly started to lift higher into the sky and Feredir reached up to capture it before it escaped. It was just out of his reach and he stretched, feeling its soft velvety wing on the tips of his fingers. Suddenly, holes appeared in the wings and the butterfly faltered. Scared of what was happening Feredir pulled his hands back, but it was too late. The edges of the holes blackened and he realized they were on fire. He heard screaming noises come from the butterfly as it disintegrated before his helpless eyes. Soon it was raining black and grey ashes and the sound of the pounding horse hooves became unbearably loud. He held his hands over his ears and yelled for them to stop, to go away.

“Feredir,” someone yelled above the noise. Over and over, his name was called until finally, he found himself lying on a blanket next to a campfire. His eyes darted around wildly until they came upon Orthorien, leaning over him and holding a bloodied cloth. Feredir tried to sit up but Orthorien put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“It’s alright, Feredir. Do not sit up. I am still cleaning your wounds.”

“Where are we?” the injured elf asked insistently.

“We are far enough out of Rhûn that I think we are safe,” Orthorien answered. He dipped the cloth into a pan of warm water heating near the fire. Then he dabbed it to the long deep wounds on Feredir’s chest. The elf cringed with every touch. He could feel the sting of the medicine that Orthorien must have added to the water. He twisted and complained.

“Serves you right you know, you stubborn son of an orc,” Orthorien grinned. He seemed to enjoy making Feredir flinch and recoil from his touch.

“I tried to help you back there. I wanted to do more but--.”

Orthorien interrupted. “You did more than enough for someone in your shape.” He examined the deep cuts. “What did this?”

“Willow branch. Abdan did not like some of my answers,” Feredir replied remembering his time in the storeroom.

“Looks like he asked a lot of questions,” Orthorien said as he mentally counted all of the cuts and welts. There were bruises on Feredir’s side as well. “And this would be for . . .?”

“I don’t know. I woke up with those. Now this one . . .” Feredir pointed to his other side where there was another dark bruise. “This one would be for telling him his mother fucks goblins. I think I regret this one most of all,” he said.

Orthorien shook his head. “That is the one that earned you a couple cracked ribs. But I must say . . .” He dipped the cloth into the water again, turning it to an unused corner. Then he brought it to Feredir’s eye. “It goes quite well with this bruise. Same color,” he jested.

After more cleaning, poking and prodding, Orthorien spoke again. “Why didn’t you wait for us, Feredir? You should never have tried this on your own. You could have gotten yourself killed.”

Feredir struggled to sit up on his elbows, every move registering in his aching body. “But I didn’t now did I.”

“Only because I arrived when I did,” Orthorien continued. He cleaned a few more wounds before he spoke again. “I saw what was about to happen to you. That heathen would have raped you. Do you have any idea of the agony a deplorable act like that would do to an elvish soul?”

Feredir remembered the helplessness of that moment. He had all but given up, something he had never done before and it hurt his pride. “All I could think of when we came to Rohan was getting to Rhûn and finding the slave. I just could not wait another moment. Seeing Terrwyn in that cell, the smell and--.” He stopped, sat up the rest of the way and looked Orthorien in his golden eyes. “Nothing else mattered to me except her and I did the only think I knew to do at the time. I went on my own.”

Orthorien wrung out the soiled cloth in the water before pouring the pot out onto the ground. He reached into his pack and took out a jar of salve and began applying it to Feredir’s wounds. Again, his young brother flinched from the pain, but it seemed to lessen with every touch. After a long silence, he spoke. “You say nothing else mattered but the girl. Nothing else? Not your friends or your troops, not the people who depend upon your skills back in Ithilien, not Mother who awaits your decision, not . . . not . . . me?”

Feredir looked curiously at his brother. “You? Since when did you care what--?”

“I have always cared, Feredir,” Orthorien shot back angrily. He held his young brother’s gaze a moment, and then dropped his eyes down to the ground. “It may not have seemed like it, but I have always cared.”

“You have an odd way of showing it,” Feredir mumbled.

“Why do you think I took responsibility for your training? Why do you think I put aside my own dreams to help Mother raise you? My father left my life and you came into it almost simultaneously. There was no time to adjust, no time to grieve my loss, no time to understand what our mother did to put us in that situation. And then I looked into the silver eyes of a helpless babe in arms and saw my brother, not a stranger or an enemy. I knew there would be questions and ridicule. I knew some would try to break you, discourage you, but you were my brother. We share the same blood, if only half, the stronger half. And I took you under my wing, taught you the ways of the Mirkwood warrior, pushed you beyond your limits. You rose to the occasion every time and I was so proud. Still, as hard as I tried, I could not get you to abandon the human side of your personality. It was that part of you that I gave the hardest time and I became the one to deliver the questions and the ridicule. I was the one that tried to break and discourage the Gondorian, but he turned out to be just as strong as the wood elf . . . and I despised you for that. It was the Gondorian that made you stronger than some of the best Mirkwood soldiers. It was the Gondorian that pushed you on and shaped you. It reminded me that our mother, though she loved my father, did not love him enough. That day my father and I marched off to battle, it was the Gondorian that--.” Orthorien stopped himself from saying anymore.

Feredir watched Orthorien as he finally admitted why he never fully accepted him. “You feel it was my father’s fault that your father died, that is what you want to say isn’t it?” He waited for an answer but received none right away.

Orthorien turned to face the small fire. “Had she loved him enough, maybe my father would not have died. Maybe he would have had more to fight for knowing she was at home waiting for him. But she was in Gondor . . . with your father.” Orthorien shook his head. “I thought if I could only turn you into someone like my father, like me . . . but you would never be that. You would always carry the blood of a Gondorian man who loved our mother enough to give her the one thing that my father would not, another child.”

Feredir got up painfully slow and took a seat on a fallen log close to the fire. “You make it sound as though I should already be one or the other, man or elf. I have fought with this all my life. No one has tried better than me to bury the human, but now I realize there was never anything to be ashamed of. Yes, our mother had an affair and I was the result. The blood of Gondor courses through my veins. I can never change that, and damn you Orthorien for ever wanting me to be anything other than what I am.”

Silence fell over the camp again. Orthorien stood up from his spot. There was a moment when Feredir felt that Orthorien would retaliate and defend himself as he had often done when they argued, but the golden haired elf remained silent. He turned and went off towards the wagon. Feredir watched his brother from the corner of his eye. Orthorien checked in on the slave and then picked up the Haradrim weapon he had taken from the guard, a spear. His own weapons had to be left behind and now this was all he had. He took a few steps towards the patch of trees next to their camp, then stopped and called over his shoulder. “I’m going off to find us something to eat. Keep watch over the slave should he awaken.” He disappeared into the darkness, his golden hair the last thing Feredir saw before the light of the fire no longer illuminated him.

The night air was chilled with the last sign of a waning winter. Feredir struggled to get up and made his way to his pack, taking out a shirt and slipping it over his recently bandaged chest. The smooth lightness of the material was much more welcoming than the heavy scratchy feel of the Haradrim clothes. He thought about Orthorien’s admission, his brother’s words sitting heavily upon his conscience. He never imagined the older elf having any doubts or reservations. He had always been so sure of himself to the point of making Feredir feel obsolete. It seemed the dark haired elf was not the only one that felt out of place back in the days of Mirkwood. Orthorien had just as much to deal with. Feredir instantly regretted his words.

He went to the back of the wagon, lifting the flap and seeing the slave still lying there, asleep. It was just as well. He hadn’t had time to give much thought of what to say when he woke up. He was anxious to find out who he was, but more importantly, what he knew. The elf’s thoughts turned to Terrwyn and he wondered how she was or what was happening. Only a few more days now and they would arrive in Rohan. The day he could look upon her face again would be a joyous one. He would feel whole again. He felt complete only when she was near. Feredir reminded himself that Horphen was there with her, watching over her and it eased his troubled mind.

Eventually, Orthorien came back with a pair of rabbits. He prepared them and set them on the makeshift spit. Feredir sat by the fire, turning them every once in a while, making sure they cooked properly. Neither elf spoke. Neither one knew what to say.

Orthorien walked back to the fire after checking on the slave. He sat down and took over the spit, relieving Feredir for a while. “So, the girl, Terrwyn, she is special to you?” he asked abruptly.

Feredir stared into the fire. “She means everything to me.”

Orthorien nodded as if in defeat. “You mean not to sail then.”

Feredir took a deep breath. If he said this aloud, would it mean he could never go back? Was he about to admit his final decision? Was there any other choice for him now? He smiled subtly, for he knew the answer as well as he knew his own name. “If the world was to end and there was only one ship left to Valinor to save me from being swallowed up by certain death, I would not go. I would stay and hold her until darkness took us both.”

Orthorien’s heart broke to hear this. He had always imagined Feredir choosing immortality and sailing with him to the Undying Lands where they could finally know what it was like to be complete brothers, whole and eternal. It seemed to him that the Gondorian won again, this time for good.

“So be it, little brother,” Orthorien answered. Silence took over once more.

The rabbit cooked to a perfect doneness and the brothers ate. When they were almost through, they heard a moan come from the wagon. Both elves turned and looked. When no more sound came, they turned back to the fire.

“Has he been unconscious since leaving the city?” Feredir asked.

“Yes, I believe the guards gave him enough sedative to transport him, or enough to keep him groggy anyways. I expect they would have given him another dose by now. He might be waking soon,” answered Orthorien.

When Feredir was sure the slave was not waking yet he continued the conversation. “How do you think Mother will take the news of my decision to stay?”

Orthorien picked up as long stick and used it to move the red glowing embers of the fire. “She will be saddened by the news, of that there is no doubt, but she will accept it. You know, you always did have a closer relationship with her than I did. That worried me often, especially after you joined the troops. If something happened to you, I truly believe she would have faded. This is why I had to find you now. I could not bear the thought of her fading from loss and pain when she is so close to sailing.”

Feredir was becoming tired and sat on the ground, leaning back against the fallen log he had been using as a seat. He picked up the stick Orthorien had just used to stir the fire and started poking thoughtlessly at the logs as he searched for the right words. “I . . . I think I finally understand why you were so protective of me at times. I thought you did not trust my judgment or did not think I was good enough. Now, I realize you were only trying to protect me for Mother’s sake.” He paused, turned to Orthorien who sat next to him by the fire and laid the stick down. “I am sorry for this. I never meant to worry you or be a burden.”

Orthorien gave Feredir a hard glance. “You were never a burden,” he insisted. The older elf was almost angry that Feredir would say such a thing. He looked back to the fire and thought hard about why his young brother felt that way. Then he remembered the conversation with their mother, the one Feredir admitted to eavesdropping. His face softened as his ire diminished and he realized Feredir had every right to feel this way. He had heard Orthorien tell her that Feredir would never be like them, that his half heritage kept him from being an equal, that he would never fit in. Orthorien shook his head as he considered his words and what it must have felt like for Feredir to hear such an awful thing coming from his own brother. “It is not you who should apologize. I made the mistake of not giving you the chance to prove yourself. I accused you of failure before you even started on your journey, but I was worried for you. I worried that you would be held back because of whom you were and what you were.”

“I can accept that,” Feredir whispered in answer. “And I have come to realize that it was wrong of me to defy you every step of the way, most recently my effort to go to Rhûn alone. I did what I thought was right and did not take into account the danger it posed, especially to our mother, to you . . . to Terrwyn. Sometimes I do not think things through and make rash decisions.”

Orthorien laughed. “Sometimes?”

Feredir smiled and pulled his long hair to one side. “Alright, most of the time, but I do it for good reason.”

“Love is a good enough reason,” Orthorien answered, accepting and understanding Feredir better. It had been such a long time since he saw his young brother that he hadn’t realized just how much he had grown over the years. Orthorien was older and older elves did not change much. Feredir was younger, not much past his majority in elf terms. He was still changing, becoming a better ellon, a better man. For the first time he could see how the two needed each other. Feredir himself was much like the changes happening in the world between the race of elves and Men. They were still learning about each other, becoming better neighbors and working harmoniously for one cause, for peace. Feredir’s internal struggle was very similar, but he seemed to have found a way to connect the two personalities and Terrwyn was key in this factor.

Orthorien reached out and patted Feredir on his shoulder, being careful not to be too rough. “You make me proud, Feredir. No matter what you have done or what you will do in the future, I am and will always be proud of you.” He released Feredir’s shoulder and stood up quickly. It was not easy for him to say these things. The awareness of his admission hung heavy in the air and he needed to move away, to let it all sink in.

Orthorien went to their supplies and fetched a bottle of wine, occupying himself for the moment and allowing Feredir the same amount of time to himself. Finally, he sat back down on the log, pulled the cork out by his teeth and raised the bottle into the air. “For love,” he toasted and took a good long swig before passing the bottle to Feredir.

Feredir watched the flames jump and snap, thinking of his dark dream. Death would not be her fate. He would save Terrwyn. She would be in his arms again soon. He held the bottle up and claimed to the dark night. “For love.” He drank his fill, then sat the bottle down on the ground between them. “For you, Naru,” he whispered quietly.

* * *

Late into the night, while the elves were resting and taking turns watching their surroundings, they heard more moans and grunts coming from the wagon. They went immediately and hopped inside. The slave was waking and they were unsure what to expect when he did. The man would be confused, scared, but they would do their best to calm him.

The man’s eyes fluttered and he mumbled something they could not understand. He finally opened his eyes and looked around, seeing the white canvas of the wagon above him. His head lolled back and forth and his breathing turned rapid. Panic set in quickly as the drug wore off. Suddenly, he sat up and yelled in the language of Harad.

“It’s alright. We are here to help you,” Feredir said smoothly trying not to frighten him any more than he already was.

The man looked from one elf to the other, then around the wagon until he saw his only escape. Quick as a deer, he jumped up and leapt towards the flap at the back entrance to the wagon. Orthorien and Feredir knew he would do this and grabbed him by the arms, pulling him back until he was sitting on his bottom.

“We mean you no harm,” Orthorien said calmly.

“He probably doesn’t speak the common tongue, brother,” Feredir warned.

The slave could not understand for they spoke Sindarin, but he knew they were talking in elvish and fear washed over his face. He backed away from the brothers and cowered in the corner of the wagon bed, mumbling to himself.

“What is he saying,” Orthorien asked.

“He is frightened of us because we are elves. It seems the Southrons have instilled their beliefs on him. He thinks we are here to steal his soul,” Feredir answered. He switched into the Harad language and spoke to the slave. “I am sorry you do not trust us, Mazzin, but we promise you no harm.”

The slave looked back and forth between the two elves, eyes wide and unnerved. “He said this would happen. He said you would come for me if I disobeyed him again.”

Feredir furrowed his brow. “Of whom do you speak?”

“My master told me this. He told me what the elves would do to me. We are not to trust them . . . you,” Mazzin answered.

“Your master has told you lies. We hold no magic. We make peace with men and live alongside them. Whatever you have been told, you were misled.”

Mazzin seemed hesitant to believe anything Feredir said. He remained cowering in the corner, his head lolling as the drugs called him back to his slumber. The man fought it desperately.

Feredir reached out and covered the slaves arm with his hand. He could feel him shaking. The poor man was terrified. When the dark elf spoke next, it was with soothing tones much like the ones he used on the small child back in the healing house. “Take rest, Mazzin. You are not well. They have sedated you. We will talk more when you are better. Sleep now and know you are safe from your master. You are free, Mazzin.”

The slaves eyes slowly closed and his rapid breathing calmed. Feredir covered him with a quilt then turned to Orthorien, nodding his head and gesturing for them to leave the wagon. The elves stood outside and considered their next action.

Orthorien looked about the campsite. “We should be on our way before sunrise. I will clean up the camp and put the fire out. You keep an eye on Mazzin in case he wakes again.”

Feredir nodded and Orthorien went to take care of things. The dark elf entered the wagon again and looked down at the man’s young face. He hadn’t had a chance to study his features yet. Blond hair, strong jaw . . . he was definitely not Haradrim. He looked to be Rohirric or at least he used to be before the Southrons assimilated him into their culture and prejudices. Still, there was something unusual about him, something almost familiar, as if he had met him before. Oh, it was probably nothing, Feredir thought as he settled down in the back of the wagon.

Soon Orthorien was done and packed. The horses were once again hitched to their reins and their hooves cleared of any mud or stones. Feredir tried to help numerous times, but was always met by Orthorien’s insistence to rest. The young elf was grateful, though he did not display it. He was still quite sore from his ordeal. Instead of arguing with his brother, Feredir made his bed of blankets in the wagon and sat down carefully. He glanced over to where the slave slept, knowing he might very well sleep through most of the remaining journey. They would need to talk just as soon as Mazzin was able. Terrwyn’s life depended upon the information he held.

Feredir reached into his pack and carefully took out the butterfly. It was definitely scarred, burnt and charred around the delicate edges, changed from its original form. Feredir reached up and touched the burn in front of his shoulder. Maybe none of them would be the same after this, he thought. The elf tucked the butterfly into his pocket and vowed to never lose it again. “And when I have you once again, Naru, I promise never to leave your side,” he whispered before allowing his healing reverie to take him.


	52. From Rhûn to Rohan

The light tossing motion of the wagon helped Feredir to sleep deeply during most of the next day’s travel. He woke up slowly, wishing he could sleep a few more hours, just until they stopped for the night. His sides did not hurt so much anymore and his wounds did not feel as raw. The elf sat up and ran his fingers through his thick black hair, sweeping it from his face.

“How are you doing Orthorien? Would you like for me to relieve you for a bit and take the reins?” he called to his brother.

“Outside of my ass being numb, I am well,” Orthorien answered, laughing lightly to himself. “We will stop soon. You just stay back there. Tomorrow I will let you take your turn.”

Feredir smiled and shook his head. Apparently, Orthorien had not lost his sense of humor with all that had happened. The younger elf could appreciate the lightheartedness of his brother because of the good will between them. They had reached an understanding. Despite all of their differences, they were brothers and they loved each other. Nothing could change that.

He was about to ask Orthorien where they were when the slave, Mazzin, rolled onto his back and began rubbing his eyes. He was waking up, the drug finally depleted from his system. Feredir sat cautiously and let the man wake on his own.

Mazzin blinked his eyes, his head turning from one side to the other, and tried to remember what had happened. He felt a presence near and sat up to find Feredir quietly watching him. He said something in the Harad language, but the elf did not answer, waiting for him to speak in the common tongue. Mazzin’s eyes grew wide with fear when the elf did not say anything.

“I thought I had dreamt that I was taken by elves,” Mazzin finally said in Westron.

“I’m afraid it was not a dream,” Feredir answered in a calm even tone.

“Am I under some elvish spell? I remember you talking to me and my eyes becoming heavy with sleep. Was that you?” Mazzin asked.

“I was the one who spoke to you, but it was no spell. I merely calmed you. It was the drug that sent you back to your dreams.” Feredir adjusted his position so that he sat facing Mazzin. “You do not need to fear me. I mean you no harm.”

Mazzin seemed unconvinced as he looked over his new captor. “Why have you taken me then? Do you not worry that the Southrons will come for me?”

Feredir shook his head slowly. “They do not scare me. Besides, we are far enough away from their borders that I think we are out of harm’s way for now.”

Mazzin still sat close in the corner of the wagon opposite Feredir. He glanced to the flap in the back, but noted that they were moving at a good pace. Feredir seemed to read his thoughts. “It will do you no good to try that again. You may be alert, but you are weakened and you are better off here with my brother and me than in the wild. As I said, we are not going to hurt you. We need your help and in return, we want to help you.”

Mazzin sat up and looked at the elf with confusion. “You need my help? How? What kind of help do you need from a slave?”

Feredir reached into his pack and pulled out a flask containing the last of their wine. He opened the top and took a drink, replaced the cap and tossed it to Mazzin. The slave caught it, but glared at Feredir as if it were some kind of trick. Feredir laughed quietly. “I would not have drunk from it myself if it were laced with poison. Go on; enjoy your first sip of freedom, Mazzin.”

Mazzin turned the flask in his hand, looked once more to Feredir, then uncorked it and took a small sip. Feredir smiled, feeling Mazzin’s reserve begin to diminish. Now was as good a time as any to begin the questioning. “Do you remember what happened to you back in Rhûn?”

Mazzin rubbed is temples and tried to remember. “I was with my clan to the north near the Iron Hills. My master had given me a mission, allowing me the most freedom I’d had since he first acquired me. These men approached me and said I was to follow them. They did not fit the description my master had given me, but I was convinced they were the ones I was to meet. The next thing I knew, I felt a sharp sting in my arm and my vision blurred.”

Feredir nodded. “Ah, that would be the sedative. Powerful stuff whatever it is.” The wagon bounced as it passed over a rock, making Feredir wince. Although he felt better, he was not completely healed.

Mazzin noticed his pain. “You were injured. What happened?”

“It seems we have a mutual friend back in Rhûn,” Feredir answered sarcastically. “You may know him as Abdan.”

“The slave trader?” Mazzin questioned. “No, he would not go against my master, one of the most powerful clan leaders. I was there when Abdan tried to negotiate my purchase. My master would not hear of it and I have to say, I was glad to know my worth was more than I thought.”

Feredir furrowed his brow. “Why do you say that?”

“I worked very hard to advance as a slave. The Southrons are wicked men. That was the first thing I learned after my capture. I witnessed many of my friends die at the hands of these men. If you did not comply, you were done away with.” Mazzin shivered at the memory and drew his legs up to his chest. He continued to look Feredir over, noticing the bandages wrapped around his chest. “So how was it that you became part of Abdan’s merchandise and escaped?”

“I had help,” Feredir answered glancing up to the front of the wagon where Orthorien sat. “My brother found me and together we found you.”

“What do you want with me anyways? I do not understand why I am here.”

Feredir did not expect to get into this conversation so soon. “We were looking for you, or at least a slave called Mazzin.”

The man observed Feredir with slight distrust. “The Southrons do not trust the elves. They tried to enforce their beliefs upon me also. They say you perform magic upon men and steal their souls. It is why you are immortal . . . that you feed upon the spirits of men.”

“And did they convince you of this?” Feredir asked cautiously.

Mazzin dropped his gaze to his knees. “They tried to convince me of a lot of things and I started to believe some of it, until I finally had proof of their lies,” he said in a whisper. Then he looked at Feredir once again, a fire in his eyes that was not there before. “And I might have believed their stories of the elves had I not met one as a child. There was nothing evil about him. In fact, he was very caring and helped me during a difficult time. If he had wanted my spirit, he would have taken it, for I had only met him a brief moment, but trusted him with my life.” Mazzin stopped and laughed. “I always found the Southrons weakened by their fear of the fair folk, but I knew better.”

“You were wise not to give into their foolish theories,” Feredir stated.

“And just like the elves, you have diverted the conversation away from my question. Why were you looking for me?” Mazzin demanded.

Feredir regarded Mazzin a moment before he continued. His strong jaw, broad shoulders and red hair gave away his heritage. The man was definitely Rohirric and he wondered how he came to be a slave. “You must have been taken as a child, otherwise I think you would have escaped long ago.”

“Yes, I was very young and the Southrons weakened me. As I said, they threatened me and kept me weak with malnutrition. They told me they had killed my family, gave gruesome details of their rape and torture. If I did not conform quickly, the same would happen to me. At first I agreed with them for the purpose of survival, but as I met other slaves, I began to see a pattern. Even among slaves, there were ranks depending on the level of trust the master had for them. I knew if I wanted to not only survive but also become a trusted member, I had to yield to the clan leader. I did everything I was told and soon my master put me into his employment. I was a message runner for the Rohirric army before my enslavement so I knew I could do the same for my master.”

“Did you ever know any of the content of these messages?” Feredir asked. He was getting closer to finding out the information he needed to free Terrwyn and his heart beat rapidly.

“I learned how to read their codes after a while and soon knew everything that went on between my clan and whoever they had dealings with. This was all part of my plan. Being so young, I knew I could not escape, but I could collect information and keep it in my memory. You see, my motive was to infiltrate the clan so that one day, when I finally attempted an escape, I could take this knowledge back to my King and finally end the Southron’s reign in Rhûn altogether. This was all I had left to believe in and it gave me hope.”

Feredir was intrigued by Mazzin’s will to survive and wished to ask him more about this, but he needed to get to the information he sought. “Do you remember letters between you master and a man called Bregmund?”

Mazzin thought a moment, his mind pouring over years of stored bits and pieces. “Bregmund . . . oh yes! I remembered that name quite well. It was Rohirric. I thought my kinsmen found out where I was and made an accord for my return. At that time, I was just learning to read their codes. There was mention of jewels being traded for land. I had hoped it was a diversion of some kind and that my people came for me. I knew it could be nothing else. Why would one of my own kind want to own a piece of Haradrim soil? From then on out, I read every message that passed my hands, but soon the messages from this man called Bregmund stopped. I couldn’t understand why. My master agreed to the trade. This was the last letter I delivered before they stopped correspondence.” Mazzin went on to tell Feredir about the kind of jewels and exactly where the land was that was mentioned. Everything was coming together. The truth lie with the slave and for years he kept it tucked away in his memory.

“I am sorry to have to tell you this, but there was no trade for your rescue. This man, Bregmund was the son of a nobleman. The jewels were his and the trade for the land was legitimate. He meant to do harm to his own kindred, using women and young girls to make dealings with the Southrons. Bregmund’s mind was twisted into thinking he could eventually break away from Rohan and make himself wealthy off both lands. He might have gotten away with his plans too, if he had not captured a certain young woman that fought him. Bregmund attacked her and she killed him in self-defense, but others would have your King believe differently. The evidence against her shows her as being the jewel thief and the reason she murdered Bregmund.”

Mazzin shook his head. “I don’t understand. This sounds like a matter for Rohan. Why are you involved in any of this?”

Feredir hung his head and closed his eyes. “Because I know this woman and she has become the most important thing in my life. She sits in the cells beneath Edoras, awaiting her tribunal and waiting for me to return with the one person who can prove her innocence. You, Mazzin, are the key to her exoneration otherwise she will be hung for murder.”

Mazzin leaned back against the side of the wagon. The information was almost too much to fathom all at once. After a long moment of silence, the slave laughed. “So my rescue was due to someone else’s need for rescue. Huh, the mysteries of the gods have struck once again,” he said in disbelief. “For years I have been planning on a way to escape, but the Southrons hold on me was too great. And now, here I sit with an elf no less and you are telling me I am a free man.”

“You are going home Mazzin and I hope that you will be able to put your life back together as it should be,” Feredir stated. “Now, will you help me free my lady? Will you tell the King what you know of the messages? It is all I ask of you. If you do this, you will be giving me the greatest gift.”

Mazzin studied Feredir’s worried face. “This woman is very special to you, I can see.”

“She is the only one who makes me feel whole and without her I am a pitiful mess,” he smiled, the words sounding desperate and somewhat humorous. “And when this is over, when I get her back, I am going to ask her to marry me.”

Mazzin seemed surprised. “I thought it was against your laws to take a human as a bond mate.”

“I am only half elf,” Feredir explained. For the first time, he was proud to admit this fact about himself. “I am a Peredhil and have the decision of becoming one or the other, but I love this woman with such immensity that my choice seems easy now. She holds my heart and I will be with her.”

Mazzin took another swig of the flask then tossed it back to Feredir. “Well then, it seems I owe you for helping me claim my freedom. I will speak on your lady’s behalf and I pray that it will be enough to set her free also.” The warm sensation of the wine eased down his throat and settled in his stomach spreading throughout the rest of his body. Mazzin pulled the cover over himself and leaned his head back against the wagon.

“Thank you,” Feredir whispered as he watched the ex-slave settle in for more rest.

* * *

Orthorien stopped for the night, their last night before reaching Rohan. Mazzin still slept in the back of the wagon. Feredir helped his brother set up their camp and get a fire going. Now the brothers sat by the crackling flames enjoying a warm drink made from some wild berries Orthorien had gathered.

“I am surprised he is still sleeping,” Orthorien said glancing at the wagon.

Feredir smiled. “I gave him some Dorwinion wine. I knew it would relax him for the journey.”

Orthorien laughed softly. “Dorwinion will keep him in dreams for a while. That is a strong potion for someone with an empty stomach. You still need him for Terrwyn’s tribunal, don’t forget.”

“It was only a sip or two from my flask. He’ll be conscious soon.” Feredir shook his head at his brother’s jesting.

They quietly sipped from their mugs, staring into the fire. Orthorien could sense Feredir’s anxiousness. They would reach Edoras by late day tomorrow. The elves could have made the trip without stopping so often if not for the slave, but it gave them the time they needed to learn what he knew of the land trade.

“Do you think all will be well when we get there?” Feredir asked tentatively. Before he left Rohan, tensions were already beginning to run high. His greatest fear was finding Terrwyn’s day of judgment already passed before he could return in time.

“Horphen is there. He will not let anything happen before then,” Orthorien stated confidently. Actually, he held the same fear in his heart, which was why he insisted the other elf stay behind. He had just recently gotten to know Horphen and hoped his intuitions were right about his brother’s best friend. “He knows how deeply you care for Terrwyn. It will be his main goal, to make sure she is safe.”

Feredir thought about this last statement. Making sure Terrwyn was safe had always been his first thought too, but when he was captured, he thought he had failed in his quest. “It almost came to naught for me . . . back there in Rhûn. I think I lost what was most important to me for a moment.”

Orthorien tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Seems to me you never lost sight of your goal. Everything you did was for Terrwyn.”

Feredir reached into his pocket and took out the butterfly, placing it in the palm of his hand and watching how the light of the fire made the wings seem like they were moving. “But I did not think things through. Had you not showed when you did . . .” Feredir paused and flashes of a different outcome played in his mind. The Southron would have broken his spirit, sending the elf into despair. The slave would have been shipped off to a new master, his name changed and never heard from again. And then there was Terrwyn. Her face looked so frightened as she stood alone on a platform, a noose about her neck, hands tied. The faces of those that sought revenge would be the last thing she’d see.

Feredir shook his head as he tried to rid these morbid scenes from his mind. Orthorien could tell what he was thinking. They were brothers after all and their connection seemed to grow more now that they had reconciled with one another. The older elf laid a strong hand on his brother’s shoulder, bringing his thoughts back to the present. Orthorien gave Feredir a stern look. “None of those things happened. What you see now is a different result of a path that you did not take.” Then his face softened into a humorous smile. “Most of us have these visions before we jump onto our chosen road,” he laughed. “Never have I known someone so determined to choose the path less traveled and turn it into an adventure. You never do anything with ease. Never have and I suppose never will.”

Feredir laughed along with his brother. He was right of course, there was no reason to dwell on something that never came to pass. As the brothers shared in a rare moment of agreement and lightheartedness, they did not hear Mazzin wake and exit the wagon. He had heard them talking and reminiscing, though he did not understand their language. He noticed Feredir holding something in his hand and moved closer to see what it was. He squint his eyes in the darkness, trying to get a better view when suddenly he gasped in surprise.

Orthorien and Feredir became aware of Mazzin’s presence and both turned simultaneously towards him. “Ah,” Orthorien said, switching to Westron. “It is good to see you up and about, my friend. Come and join us by the fire. There is still some tea left if you--.”

“Where did you get that?” Mazzin interrupted, his attention focused on the small wooden trinket.

Feredir followed Mazzin’s sight to the butterfly. “This?” he asked curiously. “It belongs to the woman who you are to help. She gave it to me for safekeeping until I can return it to her. Why?”

“I know what that is. I have seen it before.” Mazzin’s voice was full of amazement.

Orthorien looked at the butterfly and then to Mazzin. “I’m sure it is a common piece. It can probably be purchased at any wood crafter’s stand in any town.”

“Not this one,” Feredir and Mazzin said in unison and their eyes fell upon on another in astonishment. Feredir spoke next. “This is a rarity.”

“Crafted by an elf that I met long ago,” Mazzin continued.

Feredir stood up and went to Mazzin, studying his face more thoroughly. “I thought there was something very familiar about you when I first saw you. I don’t know why I never thought to ask you this before, but . . . what is your Rohirric name?”

“Mazzin is the name my master gave me to identify me as a slave. My real name is Hathmund,” the man answered, puzzled by his own voice. Long had it been since he used his Rohirric name. The sound of it was strange, but he felt his pride return, strengthening his self-esteem.

Orthorien now went to where the man and his brother stood. “Feredir?” he started to ask.

The dark haired elf smiled. “Orthorien, meet Hathmund . . . Terrwyn’s long lost brother.”

Hathmund was in shock. “But how? I don’t understand. How do you . . .? And my sister . . .?”

Feredir immediately put his hand over his heart and bowed as he said a silent prayer. Then his attention came back to Hathmund. “This is truly the work of the Valar. It could be nothing less. Praise to the keepers of the Blessed Realm.”

Hathmund shook his head. “Wait a moment. I don’t understand. If you hold the butterfly and it belongs to the woman you seek to rescue, then that means my sister is . . .”

“I’m afraid so. She is incarcerated beneath Edoras at this very moment and if we do not return soon . . .” Feredir paused, still in complete bewilderment. “Oh by the fate of the Valar, Hathmund. Do you know how long Terrwyn has searched for you?”

“I have heard no one speak her name in nine years and it sounds so surreal to hear it now.” He paused and ran his hand through his shoulder length hair. “What happened that led to her imprisonment? You told me briefly of her story, but now that I know it is Terrwyn, I must know every detail.”

Feredir turned to Orthorien. “I do not think I can wait until sunrise to leave for Rohan. We should be going soon. Terrwyn needs to know. She needs to see her brother,” he demanded. Then to Hathmund he said, “We will break down camp and I will tell you all that I know once we are on the road.”

All three agreed and they started putting out the fire, packing their blankets and cooking gear. They loaded the wagon, hitched the horses and soon were on their way. Feredir told Hathmund everything he knew about Terrwyn’s life after losing her brother. Hathmund in turn told the elf about his own trials. Meanwhile, Orthorien pushed the horses a little harder than before. They were all very anxious to get to Rohan and reunite brother and sister, as well as set her free, hopefully.


	53. Judgement Day

Terrwyn paced the dirt floor of her cell, wondering where Horphen was. She hadn’t seen him all morning. At least she thought it was morning. Time seemed not to exist in the dark dungeon beneath Edoras. Horphen always visited her at the beginning of each day, but today he had not. Lately he had seemed a little distant during their brief talks. He was hiding something; she just knew it. Leave it to an elf who cannot tell a lie to withhold information and consider it acceptable behavior, she seethed. Her anger was only a front for her true feelings. In all actuality, Terrwyn was fearful of what happened above. Even in the dampness of the dark prison, she could feel a change, the buzz of anticipation like static prickling the hairs on her neck. Her day drew near. “Where are you, Feredir?” she whispered.

After a while, Terrwyn could hear the unmistakable voices of a mob gathering above in the hall. Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps the King returned and his people were greeting him. Of course, that must be what was going, she told herself. Then the quiet mumbling of the other two prisoners floated to her cell, an Easterling and a Haradrim. Their voices wavered as they prayed to whomever they considered their gods. These two men did not even speak the same language, but they knew. Today there would be a hanging.

Terrwyn sat on her bed, rocking back and forth, her fear building every second that ticked away. The sounds of the people above became louder. They were arguing. She hoped Horphen was among those with raised voices, but she was unsure of just how much he could do for her now. The young woman had never given much thought to the higher beings in power, but now she found herself praying to the only ones that she thought would listen.

“Oh, Queens of the Valar, hear me today. If there is any hope for me, any at all, please let Horphen talk my people into postponing this hearing.”

A few moments later, there was a commotion at the dungeon entrance as six guards marched in, dressed in full armor and weapons. They lined up in the hall, two in front of each occupied cell. They unlocked the doors and went in, grabbing each inmate by the arms and binding their wrists. Terrwyn did as they told her, but she could hear the two foreigners pleading in their own tongues. When the three prisoners were properly bound, the guards marched them towards the entrance, up the stairs and into Meduseld.

The noise was atrocious and the golden hall was filled with people standing shoulder to shoulder, stretching their necks to get a look at the prisoners. First entered the Easterling held by his guards and then the Haradrim. The crowd booed and hissed, but they were not what the people were waiting for.

Terrwyn closed her eyes as the light from the hall seemed blinding after so many weeks housed in darkness with nothing more than a torch for light. As her vision adjusted, she heard the roar of the crowd. She blinked and looked around her. Angry faces met her wherever she looked. They yelled for justice. They called for a show. Gathered in Edoras for a while now, they were tired of waiting and were ready to see what they all came for, an execution.

Terrwyn’s breathing became rapid with panic as she looked around, searching the crowd for a familiar face. She found none, but she did notice that most of these people were not the commoners of the city. They were richly dressed, the most well off people of all of Rohan, East, West and Edoras. They could afford to leave their homes and wait for the day that was now here staring Terrwyn down like an angry bull. They did not care about her story or whether she was innocent or not. They only wanted to be entertained, however grotesque it may be. A triple hanging, now that was worth the wait.

It used to be different. The people of Rohan had always stood together and faced the enemy as a great force. It was clear whom they fought against, orcs and goblins, there was no mistaking. Those days were gone now. The monsters of the dark had all but disappeared. For so many years, they were great warriors and they still were, but without evil present, the people became restless. They looked for a new enemy to hate. They looked for a new form of entertainment to satisfy their fighting souls and they began to look within. Those who threatened their society were now their enemy, even if that person was one of their own.

Somewhere above the noise, Terrwyn picked out a familiar voice. “Terrwyn, oh my dear Terrwyn.”

“Horphen!” she yelled as the elf pushed his way through. Just as he approached her, a guard stepped between them, forcing them to keep their distance. “What is happening?”

“I tried, I made every effort time and again to talk Erkenbrand into delaying for just a little longer, but I have outstayed my welcome. He will listen no more and has called upon guards to keep me at bay. This mob has been gathering for some time now. They demand that things get underway and Erkenbrand has agreed in fear of a riot.”

“And what about Feredir, Orthorien? Has there been any word?” she asked desperately as the guards glared at her. They could bind her wrists and hold her by the arm, but they could not keep her lips closed.

Horphen shook his head. “I expected them to be back before now. Something must have happened to slow their progress.”

“Or they were captured,” she answered in despair.

“They are taking you to the King’s room where the tribunal will proceed,” the elf informed her just as the crowd started pushing him back, swallowing him up like a crazed wave on the shore.

Just before he disappeared, Terrwyn yelled back. “Pray for me now Horphen. It is all I have left.”

* * *

The guards finally maneuvered Terrwyn through the mob to a set of double doors behind the King’s throne. This was his office, used for such hearings among other private matters needing resolve. Each large wooden door had a carving of a horse rearing on its hind legs. They faced each other as if they were about to duel with heavy hoofs. The guards pushed the doors open slowly and the carvings seemed to invite the guests in, but what met her inside made her feel anything but welcomed.

This was a rather large room with a tall ceiling and a long window covered by a thick curtain opposite of where Terrwyn stood. Beneath the window was a grand dark wooden desk, where the King normally sat. Now it was occupied by Erkenbrand. Terrwyn looked to the left and saw two rows of chairs where she found some familiar faces. Among them were Bregmund’s parents sitting in the front row. They glared at her as she stood just inside the room. The mother of the deceased man seemed to smile slightly as the corners of her mouth curled in a wicked grin. Bregmund’s father sat next to her, no emotions at all on his worn face. There were a few other people sitting next to them, but Terrwyn did not know who they were and figured they were family of some sort.

At the end of the first row, furthest from the King’s desk, sat the two men who had been in the stables that night. Terrwyn had not seen them since that awful time and their faces brought back so many haunting memories that she wished she could disappear into a crack in the wood floor. The men smiled arrogantly at her, knowing they were getting away with their crimes and sending her to the gallows instead.

In the back row, she saw more people. Some looked familiar, stable hands that worked with her at the time. It was unclear to Terrwyn as to why they were here. They were not in the stable the night of the murder. She scanned the other faces until her eyes came upon someone she knew very well and tears welled up in her eyes. Taldred gave her a sorrowful look and she could tell he wished he were seeing her under better circumstances.

“Terrwyn,” said a loud deep voice. Erkenbrand stood behind the desk and started the proceedings. “You are here today for this tribunal, not to prove your innocence but to discuss your execution. The evidence against you is enough to establish your guilt and responsibility for the death of one of our citizens. Your own words have helped to condemn you as you admitted to having stabbed and murdered the deceased man known as Bregmund.

“Out of self-defense, my lord,” she answered.

“How is it self-defense when you were found with the missing jewels that my son was rightfully trying to take back,” Bregmund’s mother shouted.

If this were to be Terrwyn’s end, she would not go without a fight or her side of the story being told. “The jewels were a gift from Alric. I did not know they were stolen, but I know who took them. Bregmund planned this all along. Those two,” she said pointing with her nose to the two thugs sitting at the end of the row. “They were there too and they are equally as guilty, but they will not speak. Go on, tell them how you put your filthy hands on me and held me down as your precious son . . .” Here she turned back to the parents. “. . . tried to rape me and kidnap me.”

“More lies,” Bregmund’s father added. “Why would my own flesh and blood steal from me? He knew if he ever needed anything, all he had to do was ask.”

“And would you have given him these jewels?” Terrwyn asked. “Had you have known he was making trade agreements with the Southrons, these jewels for a bit of land outside of the rule of Rohan, would you have handed them over so easily?”

“She is sick and twisted, believing her own lies,” the mother cried.

“But don’t you want to know what your sweet Bregmund planned on doing with that land? A brothel, kidnapping young women, girls, maybe even boys for all I know. He would trade the flesh of the innocent for liquor and weapons, information, slaves, and whatever else would make him rich.” Terrwyn’s eyes widened with hate for all of the things Bregmund said he was going to do. “I was to be his first servant and had I not defended myself, he would have taken my innocence from me, my dignity and my pride. I was alone with no one to protect me from your loving son. It was his own fault that he died that night when he tried to take something that was not his to take.”

“That is not my son that you speak of,” the father of the deceased said. “He was good and kind. He would not have hurt a fly and if you--.”

Suddenly, Taldred stood up. “None of you were there that night. I saw her while she was still in the stable, blood covering her hands, tears streaking her face, eyes blackened and bruises covering her arms and legs. She said she was attacked and I believed her.”

“And you . . . everyone knew of your feelings for her. She would have told you anything and you would have believed her,” the mother spoke up again. “And curious how she escaped on you watch,” she said accusingly.

Taldred’s eyes fell upon Terrwyn and she could tell by the look on his face what he was about to confess. She shook her head, trying to tell him not to do this, but he closed his eyes and turned to Erkenbrand. “My lord, it is true that Terrwyn escaped during the time she was in my care. I was to transport her from the healing rooms to the prison cells, but . . . she did not do this on her own.”

“Taldred no!” Terrwyn cried.

The young Rohirrim guard went on. “I helped her. I was the one who saw to it that her horse was ready as well as a pack. I gave her the disguise to wear and told her to go to Halfirien. Then I rode out and caught up to her escorting her to the Firien Woods.”

Erkenbrand leaned back in his chair as if in disbelief. “Why did you do this? One of our own guards helped an accused murderess to escape. I could have you hung for this.”

“I did it because I knew she was innocent. As I said, I saw her after she killed Bregmund. At first, I thought it seemed suspicious with the jewels and all, but when I looked into Terrwyn’s eyes, I saw the fear. What woman would fight three men unless it was self-defense, my lord?” Taldred paused, running his hand through his sun bleached hair. He needed to regain some of his composure, feeling that he was speaking in a raised voice. He calmed himself and continued. “I knew how it looked, Lord Erkenbrand and I could not stand to watch her go through anymore of this nightmare. I know it was wrong, but I believed her and I would have done it again if given the chance.”

“You are a traitor,” yelled the mother. “You are no better than her!”

“I will take care of this matter later,” Erkenbrand interrupted. “For now this hearing is about the woman. I have heard what everyone has had to say and though Taldred disobeyed our laws and took advantage of his position as a trusted guard, he has brought up a matter that I cannot seem to put aside. He was a witness to that night and though he did not see the actual crime, he saw the results. I have to take into account the condition in which the girl was found, not typical of a ruthless murderer.”

Suddenly, after being silent through the hearing, one of Bregmund’s friends stood. He was the short fat man that had been in the stable that night. “Well I was a witness during the time that it happened. We both were,” he added as the other taller and skinnier man stood next to him. “She attacked Bregmund when he approached her about the jewels. If she had any wounds, it was because our friend was just trying to protect himself from her. She was like a crazed animal, I say. We were both rather frightened of her.”

“Lies . . . the both of you, lies!” Terrwyn shouted at them. “You were the one’s holding me down while Bregmund tried to . . . tried to . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to say it as her memory came flooding back to her, his rotten liquored breath on her neck, his dirty hands roaming over her virginal body.

At that exact moment, Bregmund’s father shot out of his chair and went to the desk where Erkenbrand sat. “I am through with this hearing. It makes no sense to me. She is guilty of her crimes and has admitted to it already.” He pointed to the large wooden doors. “Do you not hear the people’s cries? They want what they came here to see. I say we hang her and be done with it.” He marched to the doors and threw them open. The guards brought their swords out from their sheaths and watched as the mob outside began to crowd around the doors. Then they turned to Erkenbrand, awaiting their instructions.

Terrwyn was frightened by all the angry faces that searched the inside of the office until they saw her. “Murderer,” they yelled. “Get on with it. We want a hanging.”

There was nothing Erkenbrand could do. The ire of the mob in the hall began to grow to a dangerous stage. Nothing was said at the tribunal that he had not already been heard. Terrwyn murdered this man, had the jewels in her possession and escaped her arrest. Taldred’s admission was no proof that she was innocent and the word of the two men that witnessed the killing was the strongest evidence against her. Now the people waiting in the hall were becoming anxious, their restraint almost depleted as their yells and demands went unanswered. Without King Eomer there to calm the crowd, he knew it would only accelerate to an uncontrollable level. Some of the people in the hall tried to push past the guards when they heard Bregmund’s father demand justice. It was time to make his ruling.

“After hearing from both sides on this matter, I have made my decision. Terrwyn, I formally pronounce you guilty of murder. Your hanging will commence immediately,” the temporary ruler announced.

The room went into an uproar as Bregmund’s parents claimed their prayers were answered. The two men that had been present in the stable that night began calling her names and chuckling to themselves. Taldred and a few others protested the decision. When Taldred tried to approach her, he was caught by one of the guards and restrained. Erkenbrand demanded he be held for further questioning in his involvement of the prisoner’s escape. Still, he demanded that she was innocent, but his pleas went unanswered.

A few of the people outside the room heard the ruling and spread the word quickly through the crowd. More guards appeared in the hall and tried to separate the crowd making a path in which Terrwyn could be escorted. It was a long walk from Meduseld to the gallows and they would not stall any longer.

Terrwyn was in shock and showed no emotions. A part of her had accepted this outcome a long time ago. She remembered Limil and Curuven’s advice to stay true to herself and tell her story. That was exactly what she did. That was all she could do, but for one more thing. Just before the guards led her from the room, she turned to Erkenbrand. Tears immediately welled up in her eyes as she had her final say. “You have made your decision, but know this. You are sending an innocent woman to her death. You will always wonder whether you made the correct choice. I heard the doubt in your voice. You will always wonder.” Her words were swallowed up by the roar of the people as the guards led her away.

* * *

Orthorien pulled on the reigns and halted the horses as Edoras came into view. His elven hearing detected the sounds of yells off in the distance. He could see movement upon the highest part of the city, like ants gathering to perform some task in unison. While he concentrated on this, he had not noticed Feredir now releasing one of the horses from the wagon.

“What are you doing?” he yelled to the dark elf.

“It has started, Orthorien. Terrwyn is not safe anymore. I must get to the city and stop this.”

“But what about Hathmund? You will need him and I cannot drive the wagon with only one horse,” Orthorien argued.

“Release the other horse and follow quickly. Hathmund is well enough to ride. I cannot spare another moment.” As he finished speaking, the horse was freed. It bobbed its head sensing Feredir’s anxiety. The dark haired elf wrapped his fingers in the grey horse’s mane and leapt upon its back in one swift movement. He dug his heals into the beasts sides causing it to cry out. As if the animal knew the urgency of the moment, it took off at great speed charging toward Edoras.

Orthorien watched his brother ride off without him or Hathmund. “Damnit Feredir,” the older elf cursed under his breath before leaping from the wagon seat and releasing the second horse, but there was a problem with the yoke around the horse’s neck and it would not come loose. Hathmund helped him and they worked as quickly as they could when suddenly a large group of Rohirrim riders surrounded them. Orthorien abandoned what he was doing and stood tall and defensive under the bright sun as he eyed these men, unsure of what they might want. He had no time for this, he thought to himself. The golden warrior was about to threaten them and insist that they be left alone when he noticed Hathmund gasp and drop to one knee, bowing respectfully to these riders.

“My King, long has it been,” Hathmund announced and Orthorien felt a sense of relief. Eomer, the King of Rohan had returned, and not a moment too soon.


	54. At Death's Door

Feredir’s long ebony hair trailed out behind him, whipping in the wind. His horse left a trail of dirt and dust rising from the ground, disturbed by the grey mare’s large hooves. She was only a workhorse, but her speed was not lacking. Edoras closed in ahead and the sounds of people chanting reached his ears. The execution had begun and he could only pray that he was not too late. Orthorien would be along shortly, bringing Hathmund with him. Feredir would stall the proceedings until his brother arrived.

The dark elf finally reached the gates of the city. He pulled on the horse’s mane, causing the beast to come to a sudden stop. Then he threw his leg over her back and leapt down in one swift movement. His long hurried strides brought him to the gate and he proceeded to enter, but was halted abruptly by the guards.

“What is the meaning of this? Are visitors not allowed entrance to Edoras without invitation? I was here just weeks earlier and was met with a much warmer welcome,” Feredir spoke.

“We have our orders to not allow any new guests into the city,” the guard answered.

“Please, it is of utmost urgency that I speak with your ruler. I have information that he must hear pertaining to the execution of the young Rohirrim woman,” the elf pleaded.

“No one enters until we are told otherwise,” the guard replied unemotionally.

Feredir’s demeanor changed in an instant and anger washed over his face. “I need to speak to Erkenbrand and I demand entrance,” he said in a low smooth voice.

The guard did not speak, but merely stood his ground and stared back at Feredir. Then the elf lunged towards him and in the blink of an eye, his archer’s arm wrapping around the Rohirric guard’s neck. “You will let me enter or have the blood of an innocent woman on your hands,” he demanded with a growl.

At the same moment, ten fully armed guards had their weapons trained on the elf. His captor spoke again when Feredir loosened his grip on him. “The only way you will enter the city is if we have to drag your dead body through the gates. Now unhand me.”

Feredir was outnumbered and weaponless. He released the guard, who rubbed his neck after feeling the strength of an elf and knowing how easily he could have snapped his neck. Upset with Feredir’s disregard for authority, the guard signaled to two of his men who then took the elf by the arms, restraining him.

“That was a direct attack on our military and enough cause to have you arrested. It seems you just earned your way into the city by way of our dungeon.”

Feredir struggled to get free, managing to release one of his arms. He swung at the guard on his left, knocking him to the ground. The dark elf would fight all ten men barehanded if he must. Nothing would stop him from getting to Terrwyn.

He jumped and dodged the men’s attacks, knocking some to the dirt. It wasn’t until the rest of the guards rushed Feredir that he was brought down so that he tasted the earth upon his tongue, but the determined elf was not through. Using his Mirkwood skills, he bested his captors, knocking their legs out from beneath them, rolling over and jumping to his feet. The men kept coming at him, but Feredir fought with all his might, pushing and kicking them away until finally he had freed himself from them. The elf saw his chance for escape and darted through the gate. Two of the guards had bows and raised them. The gate captain yelled for them to lower their weapons. There were too many people in the streets of Edoras. They would have to chase Feredir down on foot. Then they would throw him in the cells.

Feredir disappeared quickly into the crowd and began making his way to Terrwyn. He turned back every so often to make sure the guards had not caught up to him and continued cutting a path through the Rohirric people. Terrwyn was here and, Eru willing, he would get to her before it was too late.

* * *

It had been a long and maddening walk to the gallows. People scratched and clawed at Terrwyn. They called her names and spat on her. For the most part, the sounds of their caustic chatter melded into one voice and nothing was distinguishable. The faces that met her all had the same expression, hate and excitement.

The guards pulled her along, occasionally stopping to push people out of their path. When this happened, Terrwyn took the opportunity to look out over the crowd. Each time her heart sunk a little more when she did not find anyone familiar, especially Feredir. She feared the worst had happened to him and Orthorien, that they had been captured or killed in Rhûn. She knew the odds were never in her favor. Hope had all but vanished. This was the end of her journey.

They finally reached the wooden platform of the gallows. Already, the Easterling and the Southron hung from their nooses, heads covered by a burlap sack, lifeless bodies swinging from side to side. She wondered if they deserved their deaths also. Had they actually committed a crime other than being where they should not have been?

From the platform, Terrwyn could see out over the plains of Rohan. She looked in the direction of her home in the Westfold and let her mind become consumed with thoughts of her childhood. She saw her father smiling as he came running up to them after a long stay at the borders. His arms stretched out to the sides as he caught her and her brother, holding them so tight they could not breathe. Her mother, so beautiful with her charming smile, watched her love with a sparkle in her eyes. How happy they had been then. It seemed that nothing would ever change and they would always have this love and comfort.

Terrwyn focused on this moment frozen in time as the executioner placed a burlap bag over her head. The crowd cheered each time they were a step closer to seeing her die. The sounds of the crowd quieted in her head and she focused on the voices of her parents. Would she see them soon? Would she go to the same place as them after her death? This was all she had now, the only thing she could hope for.

The feel of the rope lowering around her neck forced her back to the present. She was blinded by the sack with only the sounds of the crowd to inform her of what was happening. The wooden slats of the platform creaked as the guards left, stepping down the stairs. Then she felt the skirt of her dress wrap tightly around her legs and another rope bound her ankles. This was it, she thought and wondered why she was so calm. No tears streaked her face. No lump formed in her throat. Her breathing was slow and steady. Terrwyn realized that she had found her place of peace, had accepted her death. She was young and could have had so much more to experience, but what she found was that most of what she went through was satisfying. She had met good friends, fell in love, lived amongst the elves.

Ah, the elves, now that was worth all the mithril in all the hidden mines of Middle-earth. For so long she wished to meet them, befriend them and learn from them. That was exactly what happened. And then she met Feredir and loved him to no end. It was more than she could have ever hoped for. The love he gave her filled her now, made her forget about the crowd, the noose, the sound of someone standing to her side, ready to release the lever and drop the floor out from under her. None of that mattered now. Feredir was in her heart, speaking to her, comforting her with his alluring words. Naru, he called to her . . . red. He was beautiful in every way whether he was sweet or stubborn, demanding her to follow his orders or commanding her body to react to his. Feredir was everything she had ever wanted in a man, an elf, a companion. He was a fierce warrior and a caring lover. She prayed that he would be alright and not take the path that his heart might force upon him. 

“Please let him live on and not fade,” Terrwyn prayed. “May he go on without me, find love again and live his life in a peaceful existence that he has not known yet. Please Feredir, do this one thing for me. Please, oh blessed Valar please let him have this one thing.” Terrwyn repeated her words over and over again. She would not stop until she hung by the rope around her neck and life escaped her body.

The constant hum of the crowd was replaced by the sound of Feredir’s calling out to her, calling her name. A figment of her imagination, she told herself. She so desperately wanted to hear his voice one more time and thought she was dreaming, but the steady call became louder and more demanding. What was this?

“Stop the execution! Stop the hanging!” Feredir yelled when he could finally see the very top of the gallows. From where he was, he could see three ropes tied to the upper beam. Two were taut while the one in the middle hung slack. The dark elf pushed and shoved people out of his path until he burst free and almost fell into open space. He looked up and saw three bodies, two already hanging and one still alive. “Terrwyn!” he yelled as his heart leapt to his throat. He was shocked to see her bound, tied and blindfolded in such a manner. He thought his heart would explode knowing how close to death she was. His eyes widened with panic. “Cut her down. Release her now!”

“Feredir?” she said quietly, disbelieving that it was really her love. Maybe she was still dreaming. She could see nothing with the burlap covering her head. But the gasp and quiet that spread throughout the crowd confirmed her questioning. He was here. “Feredir!” she yelled louder this time.

He wished to call back to her, but there was no time for a reunion just yet. The elf glanced around and found Erkenbrand standing at the base of the platform with a few spectators by his side. He closed the distance and without pausing to catch his breath, started to speak. “My lord, please stop this hanging. She is innocent. Please hear me out.”

“What is the meaning of this?” Erkenbrand responded.

“I have proof of the land dealings between Bregmund and the Haradrim clan he was negotiating with.” Feredir continued. “There were letters, correspondence sent between the two about the jewels and the trade for a piece of their desert land.”

“And where are these letters?” Erkenbrand asked.

“They have long since been destroyed, my lord, but I have found the slave who played messenger at the time. He saw the parchments and delivered them to the Southrons. He read them and knows what they contained.”

Erkenbrand looked around. “Where is this witness you speak of?”

Feredir reached up and removed some of his long hair that had fallen forward and stuck to his sweating brow. “He is with my brother and if you would just postpone this punishment for a moment, he will be here soon. I ran off ahead of him to stop you and now I beg of you to wait until the witness arrives.”

Bregmund’s father stepped forward, coming between Feredir and Erkenbrand. “There has been more than enough time to prove her innocence.” He turned to Erkenbrand. “I am through waiting. Hang the girl now.”

Suddenly, the gate guards pushed through and surrounded Feredir, bringing his arms behind him and pushing him to his knees. “My lord,” started the guard. “This elf assaulted me and my men. When we tried to arrest him, he escaped us and fled into the city. He speaks of nonsense.”

Erkenbrand regarded Feredir a moment before passing judgment. “I am sorry, but you have shown me nothing that will stop this from happening.” He turned to the guards. “Take him to the cells.” Then he looked to the platform and gave a nod to the executioner.

“No!” Feredir shouted as he struggled against the guards. “Terrwyn!”

Things were quickly getting out of control as the crowd began chanting. “Hang the girl!” The deceased man’s father led their protests until it seemed they would riot.

He was there . . . right there in front of her and she could not look upon him one last time. Still, she heard his voice and the terror in his tone. She wished he was not here to witness her death, but he was here and she could at least speak to him once more. “I love you, Feredir!” she shouted over the crowd.

Still kneeling on the ground, held down by the guards, Feredir looked up at her. Tears streaked down his face. “I love you. Forever will you be my Naru,” he answered. The guards lifted him from the ground and pulled him away from the platform. Feredir fought and twisted, looking back to see Erkenbrand raise his hand in the air and hold up one finger. The executioner placed his hand on the lever. Erkenbrand held up a second finger and the hangman grasped the wooden lever tightly.

Terrwyn felt the floor beneath her shift and she braced herself for what was about to happen. Feredir desperately tried to free himself from the guards. Time seemed to slow and everyone readied for the sound of the trapdoor opening. Erkenbrand’s arm started to lower, his final signal for the hangman to release the lever and . . .

“Aye, people of Rohan!” called a loud booming voice from somewhere in the crowd.

The gate guards looked up and found their King riding through the crowd sitting upon his warhorse. All but the two guards that contained Feredir bowed respectfully to their liege. The elf slowly turned his head, disbelievingly. Erkenbrand shouted to the executioner to wait and he released the lever until further orders were given. The crowd slowly quieted and all eyes were upon their King.

Eomer was among some of the tallest of the Rohirrim. He had sharp piercing brown eyes set below furrowing dark brows. His shoulder length hair was the color of the dry grasses of the plains, bleached by years of riding under the sun. A neatly trimmed mustache and beard outlined his mouth and jaw. He was a most handsome man, still in his youth and held in high authority. He was their King and well respected by all leaders of the free world.

Eomer released the reigns and jumped down from his horse, his feet landing heavily upon the earth. His armor rattled and clanked as he walked towards the platform, shocked by what he had found.

“Why is he being held captive?” demanded Eomer, his voice loud and carrying across the hushed crowd.

“My liege, this man entered without proper permission. He attacked us at the gate and we are taking him to the dungeons,” the guard answered with a bow of his head.

Eomer noticed three of the men adorning swollen eyes and bloody noses and laughed to himself. “Your first mistake was regarding him as a man. He is an elf and you are all very lucky to be alive right now. I have fought alongside the elves and I know what strength and deadly skill they possess.”

Feredir, still held captive by two of the guards, looked at Eomer and felt the slightest bit of relief. “King Eomer, I have information that will stop the execution of this woman, but they will not hear me out. Please, you are about to make a mistake by hanging her.”

“I am fully aware of the situation,” Eomer answered and Feredir watched as Orthorien came towards him, stepping out of the crowd like an apparition.

“Orthorien,” Feredir said and smiled with relief.

Eomer nodded and the guards released the dark elf. Feredir got to his feet went to his brother, grasping forearms. “You seem to make friends fast,” the young elf commented.

“As quickly as you seem to make enemies,” Orthorien said looking at the beaten guards. “Oh,” he continued smugly. “And I brought you the King.” He patted Feredir on the back and leaned in to his ear. “You can thank me later, brother.”

Eomer looked up at the gallows and then glanced around at his people. “Release the girl,” he commanded.

“But my lord,” Erkenbrand started then quieted when Eomer raised a hand to stop him.

“I said release the girl. There will be no hanging,” Eomer commanded.

The crowd slowly began to protest and Bregmund’s mother spoke next. “But my King, you are releasing a murderess.” With that the crowd broke into another round of shouts as a guard climbed the stairs and pulled the sack and the noose from Terrwyn’s head. Then he released the rope from around her ankles, her skirt slowly unraveling from around her legs. Finally, he cut away the bonds from her wrists and she massaged them where the rough rope had rubbed her flesh.

Feredir immediately ran to her, taking the steps two at a time. He gathered her in his arms and she seemed to collapse. Finally, all the fear, all hopelessness fell away and Terrwyn began sobbing uncontrollably against Feredir’s chest. He held her tight, kissing the top of her head. “I’ve got you now. It is alright. You are safe. Oh, my sweet Terrwyn, you are safe.”

The people felt cheated out of their show and their voices rose to a higher level. Eomer jumped upon the platform and addressed his people. “What is this? Since when do the people of Rohan behave like such barbarians? Why do you cheer for the death of one of our own? Where is your pride? This is not how we should behave. This is not the reason why I have fought in recent wars, to revert into the customs of our forefathers. It is a sad day in our history when we feel satisfaction in witnessing another’s death. If we behave in such a manner, then we are no better than our enemy.”

The crowd quieted once more, but Bregmund’s parents were not done being heard. The father stepped forward. “Say what you will, but my son is still dead and this woman will walk free. Where is the justice in that, my lord?”

“I have spoken to the witness and I say this woman acted only to protect herself. I am sorry to both of you, but your son Bregmund was not innocent in this matter,” Eomer informed them.

The mother came up and stood next to her husband. “Then let us hear from this witness. Let our own ears hear what he has to say.”

Orthorien walked back into the crowd and reappeared with Hathmund. Terrwyn watched from the platform and gasped as if she had seen a ghost. “It is . . . is that my . . .?” she stuttered.

“He is alive, Naru. This is your brother,” Feredir whispered and Terrwyn released her hold on the elf. Her legs wobbled and she started to fall, shocked by what she was seeing. Feredir caught her and held her steady as she looked on with disbelief.

Hathmund stepped into the cleared space between the platform and the crowd and faced Eomer and Bregmund’s parents. “My name is Hathmund. As a child, my family was slain and I was taken by the Southrons, forced into slavery. In order to survive, I did as I was told and was eventually entrusted as a message runner for one of the Haradrim clans. I read every letter that passed my hands with hopes of escape and bringing the precious information back to my home. I clearly remember one letter above all, for I was witness to the deceit of one of our own.” Hathmund turned to the parents. “I am sorry to inform you that your son, Bregmund claimed possession of jewels and was going to trade them with my clan leader for a piece of his land. He had offered them money at first, but it was not enough. The Southrons wanted something more substantial for giving up a piece of his property, that and a contract for your son to supply his clan with slaves, women and children. That’s when he sent note of the jewels. He listed each one and its value. I can tell you if you like, but you will see that these were the exact jewels that went missing from your household.”

Bregmund’s parents looked upon Hathmund with stunned faces, but his mother was still not convinced. “How do we know that she was not in on this also? Maybe she learned of this information and decided to steal the jewels for herself, killing my son.”

Hathmund turned to look at his sister for the first time in nine years. She was just as beautiful as he had remembered. He paused a moment before answering the question, smiling to his beloved sister. “Terrwyn would not, could not have murdered this man in cold blood,” he said in a loud voice so that all could hear.

“And just how can you be so sure?” asked Bregmund’s father.

“Because . . .” Hathmund paused, looking Terrwyn straight into her green eyes. “My sister is not just a Rohirrim. She shares another heritage, one she knows nothing about, but the purity of her blood would not have allowed her to make a senseless killing and she could only kill out of necessity for her own safety. Coursing through her veins runs the blood of the elves as well as the Rohirrim.”

A gasp spread across the crowd like the sound of the wind blowing over the open plains. Feredir and Terrwyn were stunned and unable to move. It was as if time froze and Hathmund was the only one not turned to ice. He walked to the stairs and looked up at his sister.

“Hello Terrwyn. It is good to see your lovely face,” he smiled. It seemed like such a trivial greeting, but he could think of nothing else to say.

She took an unsteady step forward and Feredir took her arm, leading her down the stairs until she was standing face to face with her brother. Tears filled her eyes and her lip quivered. “I . . . I don’t know what to say. Is it you? Is it really you?” She seemed to ignore this bit of new information as if she had not heard what he had just revealed.

“I have waited so long that I thought this day would never come,” Hathmund said taking Terrwyn into his arms. Brother and sister clung to each other for what seemed like eternity. Then they finally released one another and Terrwyn searched his face.

“What you just said, I . . . I can’t even fathom it. What makes you think this? I am not half elf. I am human . . . Rohirric. If you are telling them this just to prove my innocence--.” she whispered so no one would hear.

“It is true, Terrwyn. Oh my dear sister, there is so much I need to tell you.” Hathmund pulled her to him again. She could feel him shaking against her. She was shaking too, shocked by everything that had just happened.

“Oh, how I prayed every day that you were alive and now--. I can’t believe I am actually holding you,” Terrwyn cried.

“Good people of Rohan,” Eomer announced. “Let us rejoice. One of our lost brothers has been returned to us and an innocent life has been saved. It is a good day in Edoras. Tonight we will feast.” Eomer stepped down from the platform, joining Terrwyn and Hathmund. “You are free Terrwyn. Hathmund has provided enough proof and I am satisfied. However, not all of the people here will accept or understand my decision. The fact is, someone is dead by your hands. I still have much to take into consideration, but take peace in knowing you will not be imprisoned or face further punishment. You have my word.”

Terrwyn released her brother and got down on one knee, bowing to her King. “Thank you, Sire. Thank you for giving me my life back.” She looked up at Hathmund. “Though I do not know what this new life holds just yet.” She was still in a state of shock and disbelief. How on this good earth could it be true? She could not possibly be half elven. 

Feredir and Orthorien joined the two siblings. Terrwyn turned to Feredir and jumped into his arms. “I don’t think my brother knows what he is saying. The Southrons must have filled his head with untruths.”

“I do not know what to think either my love, but for now I am just thankful to have you back. I thought I had lost you forever. When I saw you up there, tied and--.” Feredir could not continue and held her against him. “I would have faded. I could feel my soul start to die already.”

“But I am here, Feredir. I am alive and I love you,” Terrwyn whispered against his neck.

“And I love you, my sweet Naru,” he answered before capturing her lips for the first time in what felt like forever.


	55. Revelation

Eomer had his personal guards sweep Terrwyn away to his private rooms. The crowd of people had not yet calmed completely or dispersed. The King worried for her safety at this point and allowed Feredir, Orthorien and Hathmund to accompany her. They instantly dashed into an alleyway and made the long trek back to the Kings’ rooms in Meduseld.

Feredir took her arm, while Orthorien covered her with a cloak he was wearing. Terrwyn was still in a state of confused shock by all that had just happened and remained silent as they hurried along listening to Orthorien’s account of meeting Eomer and rushing to the city. Had Feredir not dashed off ahead of them, she might not have been alive by the time Orthorien appeared. The thought made her shiver. She hadn’t had the time to deal with the hanging or the fact that her brother was suddenly back in her life. Terrwyn wished she could tell them all to stop and let her catch her breath, to let all of this sink in, but she understood the importance of getting away to a secluded place.

They finally reached Eomer’s private rooms and entered through a single heavy wooden door. The guards turned to Orthorien, the tallest of the group, and spoke. “The King requests that you stay here for as long as you need. He will call for counsel once the disturbances of the city have died down.”

Orthorien bowed to the guards and closed the door behind them as they left. The small group looked around the room for a moment, making note of their temporary retreat. This was very much the room of a King, a sitting room, a place to greet and entertain guests. Windows lined one wall, high windows that let a good amount of light into the room. It had tall ceilings held up by wooden columns, much like those in the golden hall, unique carvings of beasts decorating them. Tapestries hung between the windows and on the opposite wall. Terrwyn watched as one tapestry waved gently by a breeze blowing in from an open window. She admired the picture of the late Queen, Eomer’s aunt. She could tell that he came from a long lineage of proud rulers and had inherited the same qualities that proved him a great king.

On another side of the room was a small hearth, a brown bear skin rug splayed out on the floor in front of it. Above its mantle, hanging on the wall were an array of weapons; spears, bows and a pair of gleaming silver swords crossed at the middle. To the left of that were several stuffed creatures, trophies from a successful hunt. The head of a deer and of a wild boar with great white tusks and several quail poised as if they were still in flight decorated this side of the room.

The large room also held a fine looking chaise lounge made of soft leather and other plush chairs that looked like good resting places after a long day of ruling the city. Various shelves housed books and boxes, trinkets and statues, all things that must have accrued over the years by the different kings. It was actually a very cozy room and Terrwyn was thankful.

Orthorien went to a window and looked out over to the mountain range. Feredir led Terrwyn to the sofa and sat down next to her, looking at her wrists where the skin was red and raw. He blew on them and whispered in his foreign tongue. Then he raised his head and captured her stare. She seemed as if she were not there, hidden within herself to protect her mind from all of the recent madness.

“Terrwyn?” he said as his hand cupped the side of her face. She looked right through him, not seeing him before her.

Hathmund stepped in front of where she sat on the couch and got down on one knee so that he was at eye level with her. He took one of her hands and squeezed it. Her eyes focused, though they were still glazed over. Her lips curled into a smile as tears filled her eyes.

“Hathmund, surely this is all a dream and I am hanging from a rope at the gallows.”

Hathmund returned the smile and shook his head. “It is real Sissy. I am here.” Out of habit, he called her by the childhood name he always used, but realized now looking at her closely that she was no longer the little girl he had last seen.

“But how? How did this come to be?” She looked to Feredir who still sat next to her.

“Only by the grace of the Valar could this have happened,” Feredir answered. “The slave Mazzin and your brother Hathmund are one in the same. We did not know until we were well on our way back from Rhûn.” Feredir reached into his tunic and removed the wooden butterfly, handing it to Terrwyn. “It was your little treasure that connected it all. Hathmund saw me holding it as we sat by the fire and recognized it right away.” He placed it in the palm of her hand and closed her fingers around it. “It is back home with its owner where it should be.”

Terrwyn’s tears fell onto her skirt as she looked down and opened her hand. She noticed the charred edges and creased her brows. “What happened to it? It looks as if it has been burned.”

“It is a long story and one I will tell you soon, but not now, Naru.”

Her eyes scanned Feredir’s face and her fingers caressed his cheek. “Oh, how long I have yearned to hear you call me such.” In the same instant, she turned her attention back to her brother. “Hathmund, I have worried for you all this time. I never forgot you. I planned to find you before my life took a turn. There were those that told me to forget you, that you could not possibly have survived all this time, but I knew better.”

Feredir kissed Terrwyn’s cheek and stood up from the chaise. “You need this time with Hathmund. I’m going to go and look for Horphen, but I’ll return.”

Terrwyn looked terrified. “No, please don’t leave,” she begged.

“I won’t be long. I promise.” He leaned down and kissed her head then whispered in her ear. “I will never leave you again.” He took her chin in his fingers and smiled lovingly to her. Then Feredir went to Orthorien, tapped him on the shoulder and motioned for his brother to join him, giving Terrwyn and Hathmund their privacy.

The door closed and Hathmund took a seat next to Terrwyn. They turned towards each other so that their knees touched and held one another’s hands. Hathmund spoke first. “What Feredir said about the Valar is the only explanation I have for any of this.”

“I don’t even know what to say. It is nothing short of a miracle that we are sitting here together again. What happened, Hathmund? What happened the day you were taken?”

He proceeded to tell her how he traveled to the village where their mother stayed behind after sending her children to live with friends. Hathmund checked on her from time to time, giving her any extra money that he had earned. It was during one of these visits that the small town was ransacked by Southrons. He was merely a boy then, but he fought these men with nothing more that the elvish knife. He could only hold them off for a short time and soon they over powered him. Hathmund watched their mother try to protect him, but she was unsuccessful and killed in front of him. He expected to die alongside her, but the Southrons took him, bound his arms and legs and tied him to the back of a horse. The Southron’s took him to Rhûn, where he was starved and weakened, sold into slavery and passed around between some of the smaller clans. There were things that happened to him that he refused to speak of, things he said were not meant for a woman’s ears to hear. Still, Hathmund survived and he assimilated into Haradrim slave culture, making his way through the many deviating levels until he was among the most trusted and obedient servants. He told her of his plans to gather as much information about the Haradrim in Rhûn as he could in hopes of rejoining his countrymen and sharing this with them. “No one else should have to suffer at the hands of these men,” he claimed as if remembering some horrible incident that happened during his slavery. “And what of you, dear sister. What happened that led to this?”

Terrwyn took a deep breath. It had been such a long journey for her; she didn’t know where to start. She shared with Hathmund all of her adventures, from finding their mother’s body to coming to live in Edoras. She spoke of meeting Alric, Taldred and the horrible night in the stables, escaping Rohan and finding Rosloch in the Firien woods. Then she told him about going to Minas Tirith and working there until she was finally captured and taken to Ithilien where she met the elves and Feredir. It was there that she learned about a slave in Rhûn that knew about those blasted letters. “And now, here I sit looking into the eyes of my brother,” she finished.

Hathmund sat quietly, allowing himself to absorb all she said before he continued. “You know, for a while I thought you were dead. The Southrons found out that I had a sister and used that to further break my spirit. They said they went to the village where we lived and found you. They told me of all the horrible things they did to you, and then they killed you. For years, I believed it and I started to feel myself change. I started to think like them, act like them. Part of it was because I thought I had lost everything. I was so confused then, but I think it helped me to survive. They brainwashed me into thinking that there were certain things I needed to do before they would fully accept me into the clan, slave or no.”

Terrwyn stopped him, unable to listen to any more of this torture, but Hathmund shook his head. “No, let me tell you what happened. I need you to know this.”

“Go on then,” she said as she tucked her legs up under her and snuggled into his chest.

“As I said, I thought you were dead and I allowed myself to believe all that the Southrons told me. My master at the time wanted me to prove my loyalty to him and the clan. He sent me out with two other men to complete a task. My reward would be acceptance into the clan and more freedom to move about Rhûn, doing missions for my master. We traveled along the road, far to the south, almost to Gondor. We were told to find and kill a pair of travelers that had been spotted a few days earlier. I couldn’t understand the reason for going so far, but I didn’t ask questions. The men I was with had orders to kill me if I did not follow through.

We spotted them, a man and a woman. My heart sunk to think of having to kill them, but it was necessary for my own survival. We followed them to the edge of the wooded area where they stopped for the night and--.”

“It was you upon the hill,” Terrwyn interrupted. “The man in shadows was you, wasn’t it?” She suddenly remembered traveling to Gondor with Rosloch and the attack. Rosloch had killed one of the men, but two others had captured her and dragged her into the woods. “I remember now. I was about to be attacked when a man hidden in shadows called to them. I sensed something then, but I did not know what it was.”

“When I saw you, I knew it was you,” Hathmund continued. “Suddenly, it all made sense to me. The Southrons sent me to kill you, a last test of my faith to the clan, to Harad. They knew you were my sister somehow. There were always spies about with news of travelers and such. They sent me to kill my own sibling.” Hathmund shook his head. “I could not do it of course and instantly my mind cleared, as if a fog had lifted from my darkened mind. I had a reason to fight again. They would never again break my spirit. My sister lived and I was not alone.”

Terrwyn was amazed by his story. “What did you do? Why did you not come back and show yourself? You could have escaped to Gondor with us.”

“Your life was in danger as well as mine. Your friend killed one of the Southrons, but there were still two more. I called to them, told them to leave you alone . . . that this was my task. Then when they were off their guard, I killed them. By the time I went back to the campsite, you had left the woods and were gone. I would have followed, but another group of Southrons found me. I lied and told them that there had been a fight, that the man you were with killed the others, but that I had finally managed to take him on my own, slashing his throat and killing the girl. They wanted to see proof of this and I thought for sure they would uncover my lie. Again, the gods were smiling down on me. As we approached your campsite, a group of Gondorian border guards appeared and we ran before they found us. I had no choice but to go with the Southrons back to Rhûn. That’s when I swore to gather as much information as I could and plan my escape. I still had a sister out there to protect and if I had to do it while being held prisoner by the Southrons, then I would.”

 

Terrwyn lifted her head to gaze upon her brother. “It makes my heart break to know we were so close to reuniting. Had I have known it was you--.”

“You could not have known, sister. Do not think about it any longer. We are together now and that is what matters.” Hathmund kissed her forehead and hugged her.

The elves returned and quietly entered the room. Terrwyn looked up from her brother’s arms, her green eyes falling upon Feredir. The look of concern and worry on his face was too much. She needed him, needed to feel him wrapped around her. Hathmund observed the connection they shared and nudged her. “Go to him,” he whispered.

Terrwyn jumped up from the chaise and ran to Feredir, throwing herself against his body. He caught her, wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer to Eru for giving her back to him. Judgment day was over. She had stood for her crimes and now she was free, free to be with him.

Terrwyn gazed over Feredir’s shoulder to find Orthorien and Horphen standing side by side, watching the two lovers reunite. Horphen looked worn from the burden of having to be the one to watch over her. He had done so much, had been there every day for her. She released Feredir and stepped aside, going to Horphen and embracing him.

“I thought I had failed you, my lady,” he confessed.

“You were truly a blessing and my only link to the outside world, Horphen. I think you saved me from falling into despair when I was locked away in the darkness.” She comforted him in her arms as he did the same for her.

Orthorien closed the distance, placing a warm hand on her back. “We are all glad to have you back with us.”

Terrwyn turned her head towards the golden warrior. “Thank you for all that you have done.”

Hathmund watched from the sofa, observing his sister as she was surrounded by these three tall warrior elves. He remembered her dreams as a child of wanting to live with the elves and realized she had gotten her wish. He smiled to himself, knowing she was where she belonged.

After the brief reunion, Terrwyn went back to Feredir, who wrapped his arm around her shoulder. They walked across the large room back to where her brother sat. Terrwyn had a seat next to him. Feredir creased his brow as a question came to his mind, one he needed answering.

“Hathmund, you told Eomer and the others that Terrwyn was half elf,” he started.

Terrwyn shook her head. “He only said that to further convince them to release me and could have been reprimanded for such a fib. Of course, I am not half elf. I don’t even know why you would say such a thing.” Her eyes scanned her brother’s face for a smile, a shake of his head, anything that would prove she was right. But Hathmund sat very still, no smile upon his lips and his brown eyes firmly fixed upon her. Terrwyn laughed nervously and grasped his hands. “Tell them Hathmund.”

“It is true, dear sister. The blood of the elves courses in your veins,” Hathmund confirmed.

“No,” she shook her head. “It cannot be. Mother and Father . . . I am Rohirrim. I am human.”

“What proof do you have of this? Why did your parents never tell her?” Feredir added.

Hathmund searched for the right words to say before focusing his attention on his sister. “Do you remember back when Mother left us with her friends, when she decided to help rebuild our old village?”

Terrwyn nodded. “She was very depressed then. I wanted more than anything to be with her.”

“I told you how I used to check on her while I was running messages for the Rohirrim. Even then, she was still falling into despair. She was never the same after Father died. Their love was so strong. She would have done anything for him and when he perished, she just did not know how to live without him. I think she sensed this about herself and I think she felt the change in the air. Danger grew ever closer.

During one of my visits, she told me how she had heard word of the Southrons wreaking havoc on other parts of the West. I begged her to leave, to go to the village where you were, but she said she would not run anymore. That was her home and all she had left of Father was within the walls of that place. I think she was ready to die knowing she would be with our father again. She went to her room and pulled a letter out of a drawer, handing it to me. She gave me precise instructions to give it to you when you were a little older and could understand things better and that it was very important that you know what was inside this sealed parchment. I asked her about it of course, but she said it was not for my eyes and that it was up to you to tell me what the letter held.” Hathmund paused and laughed to himself. “You know me, I was never good at following Mother’s rules. I kept the letter for a while, but soon the temptation was too much and I opened it.”

“What did it say?” Terrwyn asked eagerly.

Hathmund settled in next to his sister, ready to tell her the story. Some of the information was his own knowledge and some was from the letter. Over the years, he had managed to piece the two together and now explained it to Terrwyn.

Their parents, Larrwyn and Hathred were so very in love and always had been. They wanted nothing more than to have a family and right away Larrwyn became pregnant with Hathmund. Not long after he was born, Hathred was called away to the borders. It tore at his heart to leave his young wife with a new born, but it was his duty. So he left his wife and son, telling them he would be back as soon as he could. However, he was gone much longer than expected. Larrwyn feared the worst until she finally received word from his Captain that he had been severely injured. They were doing all they could for him at the borders until they felt he was well enough to travel. The news was grim, but at least he was alive. Larrwyn waited restlessly until he came back. Her biggest fear was that he would not survive the journey home. By the time they arrived, Hathred was in grave condition. Larrwyn feared he would die, but at least he was at home with the ones he loved. She stayed by his side day and night with an infant dandling from her hip, caring for her ailing husband. Recovery was slow, but eventually Hathred began to recover. When he was well enough, he told his wife that many times, he felt himself fading into the darkness of death, but Larrwyn’s voice always pulled him back from the abyss. He fought to live for her.

Though he recovered, his injuries needed time to heal and Hathred was relieved of duty for a long while. During that time, he and Larrwyn decided to have another child. They tried for close to a year with no results. Hathred started to realize that he might never be able to give her a child again, most likely due to his injuries. He fell into a depression, said he was not man enough for her anymore. Larrwyn told him this was nonsense, but quietly feared that he would leave her. Matters worsened between them and it was then that Larrwyn made a desperate decision to save her love and her marriage as well as her husband’s pride.

She made arrangements with Hathred’s friends to take him on an extended hunting trip or some other sport that they all enjoyed, hoping it would lift her husband’s spirits, and after some coaxing, he agreed to go. Then she went to her own friends and told them a story about a sick cousin in a neighboring village who asked for her help. The friends agreed to take Hathmund, her young son, while she was away. With all the details taken care of, Larrwyn retrieved her horse and rode off. Where she was going, she did not know. She had no plans from this point forward, only that she must return home within the allotted time.

Larrwyn traveled throughout the Riddermark, searching for a sign. Somewhere within the vastness of this country was a solution to her complications, but she had no idea what she searched for. And then, after traveling quite a distance without seeing a soul, a man seemed to manifest from nowhere, traveling alone. Larrwyn knew at once that he was her answer.

They spent one night together. That was all. That was enough. Larrwyn prayed that his seed took root in her womb. The man told her she would have her wish. Of course, she said there was no way he could have known if she had conceived. That was when he revealed to her that he was an elf. He listened to her story, sensed her desperation and therefore willed it upon her to conceive. He said his own story was too long to tell, but he understood what she was going through, for he too had had to make some similar choices. Now, his time was at an end as he was traveling to the Grey Havens where he would set sail to the Undying Lands. He viewed this affair as his last gift to Middle-earth, to Larrwyn and perhaps even a slight healing of his own soul.

Almost out of time, Larrwyn went back home after the encounter with the stranger and never mentioned a word to anyone. She soon discovered that she was indeed with child. Hathred recovered from his depression after finding out that they would soon have a new addition to their family. Everything fell into place and life went on just as it should have.

“The day you were born, Mother wrote that letter to you and hid it away, just in case she would not have the chance to tell you herself. So yes, Terrwyn, it is true that you are half elven,” Hathmund said as he finished telling all he knew.

Terrwyn sat stunned by this story. She needed something tangible, something to see with her own eyes. “Where is this letter?” she asked.

“It was destroyed, burned by the Southrons when they captured me. I grabbed it right before they took me away and they found it. I was never so glad to have gone against Mother’s wishes, glad I had read it, otherwise you would never have known where you came from.”

There was a knock on the door and Horphen moved across the room to open it. Eomer came in, now relieved of his armor and wearing his usual kingly garb, dark red tunic and black britches. He nodded to the elves and smiled at Terrwyn as he went to where she stood.

“How are you feeling, my lady?” he asked.

“I am still in a bit of a stupor,” she answered.

“You are welcome to stay in my quarters for as long as you need, Terrwyn. You are free to move about the city also, though I would advise you to be cautious. There are still those that disagree with my decision. Edoras may not be the safest place for you at the moment.”

“I understand, my lord. I just need some time to get my thoughts together. So much has happened in so little a time. You have been most gracious and I thank you for your hospitality.”

Eomer smiled and bowed, then turned to Hathmund. “I would like speak with you about Harad and these dealings between the deceased man and this clan you spoke of.”

“Yes, my liege,” Hathmund replied. He turned to Terrwyn and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back in a little while. Rest while I’m gone. We’ll talk more when I return, if you feel up to more conversation.”

Terrwyn smiled and nodded in agreement, and watched her brother follow the King from the room. She folded her hands together, seeming confused as of what to do. Horphen and Orthorien glanced at each other as the same thought occurred to them simultaneously.

“We will give you two a moment alone,” Horphen announced. Then he and Orthorien left.

Terrwyn remained with her back to Feredir, but he closed the distance between them and gently laid his hands on her shoulders. She did not move, did not respond in any way. “Terrwyn, tell me what you are thinking,” he coaxed her.

She shook her head. “Honestly, I do not know what to think, Feredir. I was just moments from swinging from the gallows. I’ve just found my brother that I did not know was alive or not. I’ve been told that I am not the person I thought I was. The man I love dearly and thought was my father has no blood relation to me at all.” She moved away from Feredir and he brought his hands back to his sides. “A moment ago I was on the verge of death and now I’ve been told I may be immortal.”

“Don’t you know what this means?” Feredir went on. “It all makes sense now, Terrwyn. All those dreams, your senses, our connection, it was more than just coincidence. You and I, we are the same.”

“I am not sure I want this,” she retorted. “I suppose I have the same choices as you now.”

Feredir smiled and moved in front of her. “And we can make this choice together. Just think, we can live here in Middle-earth for as long as we want and then sail--.”

Terrwyn shook her head. “You just assume I want what you want. Can you actually stand here and expect me to follow you with any decisions you make?” Her anger rose as her feral eyes turned on him. “I can’t even wrap my mind around this yet, and you have already figured out our future.” She shoved him away from her. “I can’t do this now, Feredir. I need time . . . alone.”

“But Terrwyn, I did not mean--.”

“I have to get away from all of this. I need time to think and I cannot do that around you.” She turned away and ran to the door, grabbing the cloak from a peg on the wall.

“Terrwyn, please,” Feredir begged.

“No, Feredir. Do not follow me. Let me be. I . . . I need to get away from this. Please, just leave me alone.” Her voice broke with her last words as tears pooled in her eyes. Terrwyn exited the room and ran down the hallway until she found a door. She quickly slipped into the cloak, covered her head and left the King’s rooms. She found herself outside, the sun sinking behind the mountains. Terrwyn walked at a quick pace down a set of stairs that emptied to the streets of Edoras.

Where could she go, she thought. There was a time when the stables gave her a sense of relief, but now they only brought back horrible nightmares. Alric had been her other sense of security, but he had died a few years back. But wait . . . there was one place where she could go. Taldred and Lindiel would take her in, at least she hoped they would. It was the only place she could think to go, so she went off to her old home, Alric’s old home that she gave to Taldred when she left Rohan. She just needed some time alone to think and contemplate everything that had happened to her today.


	56. Familiar Places

There was dampness in the air as clouds gathered above. The sun had gone down and rain threatened the skies of Rohan. Terrwyn hurried along the streets of Edoras, hidden beneath her cloak. She never should have left King Eomer’s quarters this soon. People still roamed the streets and alleys, visitors and residents alike who felt cheated out of their macabre entertainment from the morning. How would it look to see the accused murderess now newly vindicated citizen walking freely through the town’s dirt roads? It was either this or remain with Feredir and listen to him go on about how perfect their lives could be now. It didn’t feel perfect to Terrwyn. She felt as if she had lost her identity. Half elven? It could not possibly be. And if it was, who fathered her? Was he Sylvan or Noldor, Mirkwood or Lorien, Rivendell perhaps? What half race was she? She would probably never know.

Terrwyn stepped out of an alleyway and walked past the open door to a tavern. She glanced inside as she passed, scanning the patrons, mostly men, strong brave Rohirrim men. Any one of them should have been enough for her, but she never held an interest in them. Her mind always wondered about the elves. Since she was a child, it had been this way. Even Taldred, who would have given her the moon if it made her happy, did not make her heart flutter. Could this have been the reason why, because of her half heritage? 

She peered out from beneath the dark shadow of the hooded cloak, observing the men in the pub, happy to be amongst each other, when a familiar face caught her eye. It was Bregmund’s father and he sat with a few other men. They all huddled together, as if telling secrets. The father’s face was stone cold, but anger festered behind his dark eyes. A shiver ran up Terrwyn’s spine. Just another reason to leave the city, she thought to herself. She wrapped the cloak tightly about her shoulders and hurried away from the tavern. There were those that she wished never to see again if it could be helped.

Finally, Terrwyn came to a familiar looking home, still just as cozy as it was when she lived there with Alric. Now, pretty lavender curtains decorated the windows and flowerbeds lined either side of the door. She eased her hand out from beneath the cloak and knocked softly.

The door opened a crack and a familiar pair of eyes peered out. “Terrwyn?” said a small voice from within. Immediately, the door opened wide and Terrwyn’s dear friend Lindiel stood with her hands covering her mouth.

“Hello, Lindiel,” Terrwyn said nervously, not sure what to expect after all that had happened. Lindiel reached out and touched her friend’s arm, as if she needed to feel her flesh to know this was real.

“Terrwyn, oh my dear friend, I was so worried for you,” the woman cried as she brought the red haired woman into her embrace. Terrwyn hugged Lindiel in return and noticed something very different about her friend. She pushed back and looked down to her swollen belly.

“Lindiel, you are with child,” Terrwyn exclaimed.

“Five months along now,” Lindiel said as she swirled her hand over the protruding abdomen. “But never mind me.” She grabbed Terrwyn’s hand and pulled her into the house, closing the door behind them. Then she looked Terrwyn over from head to toe, shocked to see her friend. “I cannot even begin to explain how fearful I was for you. Taldred told me everything that was happening as soon as you were brought to the city. I so desperately wanted to come see you, but he forbade me and said that the guards would not permit it anyhow. And then I heard of the trial and all the people filling the streets and . . . it was too much to bear knowing you were here as a prisoner.” Lindiel seemed as if she would burst into tears.

Terrwyn took a quick look around the small house. Many memories came flooding back to her. She had lived in this very house with Alric, taking care of him and his home in exchange for shelter. Those had been good days then and the feeling was still here. She brought her attention back to Lindiel. “It is over now. I was exonerated by King Eomer, who has been more than gracious. He advised me not to wander Edoras, but after being locked away for so long, I could not stand to remain behind closed doors another moment. I’m sorry if I came unexpected, but I just couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.”

Lindiel lifted her arm and gestured around the room. “It is because of you that Taldred and I have this place. You are always welcomed here. Oh Terrwyn, I have missed you so much since our time in Minas Tirith. I have often wondered--.”

The mention of Taldred’s name made Terrwyn pull away from Lindiel, concerned for what happened to him. “Have you heard from Taldred?” she interrupted.

Confused by the suddenness of Terrwyn’s inquiry Lindiel answered. “He came home briefly after a night on patrol, freshened up and changed into his civilian clothes. Then he went to join the others at your hearing. He has not returned since then and I think I know what keeps him. He has been detained hasn’t he?”

“What do you mean?” Terrwyn asked.

“Taldred and I have no secrets. When he asked to court me, we made this agreement between us. I told him everything, my secret longing for him as children and my jealousy when I learned that he pined for someone else. And he told me all of his secrets even the one about . . .” Lindiel stopped briefly. “About his involvement with your escape.”

“What? You knew about this?” Terrwyn asked shocked.

She took Terrwyn’s hands and searched her friends face. “I was glad he told me and I was proud that he did what he did. Taldred is a good man and a good judge of character. He explained everything he saw in the stables that night and after befriending you in Minas Tirith and having heard all the charges against you, I could not believe it either. If it were I instead of Taldred, I would have done the same thing. We talked about this many times and we both agreed that if the time came that he needed to tell the truth, then he should do so. Now, here you are and Taldred has not come home yet so I guess that means--.” Lindiel waved her hand in the air, shooing away a few tears threatening the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry, I seem to cry a lot anymore.”

Terrwyn was sure that if the King allowed her freedom, he would also understand Taldred’s reasons for doing what he did. Still, it made her nervous knowing Lindiel hadn’t seen or heard from him since the morning. Her friend was on the verge of a breakdown that only a pregnant woman could conjure and Terrwyn was still confused by all the day’s events. She knew they needed a distraction. “It has been a long and tiring day. I don’t suppose you have anything relaxing to drink.” She exaggerated the word and gave Lindiel a wink.

“I think Taldred has something hidden away in one of the cupboards. Come with me and I’ll see what I can find.” She took Terrwyn’s hand and pulled her into the kitchen. Lindiel searched for a bottle of Taldred’s secret stock, a nasty liquor that could make a blind man see, as Alric used to call it. Terrwyn knew a thing or two about Rohirric soldiers. They all kept a bottle of the stuff somewhere. While Lindiel explored parts of her kitchen that had obviously been forgotten about, Terrwyn had a seat at the small table in the corner of the room. Not much had changed since she lived here. The curtains were different colors and the personal items had changed with the new owners, but the ambiance of the home was still the same. It was quite satisfying to be back in her old home.

Suddenly Lindiel stopped what she was doing and smiled as she heard the front door creak open. “Taldred is home,” she sang as she rushed from the kitchen to greet him. Terrwyn stood and walked to the threshold, peeking around the corner. She watched as Taldred greeted his wife with open arms, wrapping them around her. Terrwyn had seen him once while she was jailed and at the tribunal, but she hadn’t had the time to really observe him with everything that was happening. Now she secretly took a better look at him from the kitchen. His hair just touched his collar, still sun streaked golden. He seemed a bit more muscled and his facial features had matured. That was good to see. It meant he had been working very hard to provide for his new wife and unborn child. But what she noticed most was the gleam in his eyes as he looked at Lindiel. This was something Terrwyn had never seen before and it gladdened her heart to see it now.

Taldred kissed Lindiel lovingly and then knelt down on one knee, resting his cheek on her swelled abdomen. He whispered a Rohirric blessing to the new babe. “It is good to be home.”

“I was so worried, Taldred. When you did not come back after--.”

Taldred stood up and took her into his arms. “I must admit, I wasn’t quite sure myself after today. I was afraid I would not get to do any of this again.” His hand went to her stomach. “But all is well. We are blessed to have a King that is so fair and just.”

Terrwyn felt as if she were intruding upon a private moment and moved away from the doorway. Lindiel heard the rustling of her skirts as they brushed against the rough sawn wood. “Taldred,” Lindiel smiled as he stood back up. “There is someone here to see us.” 

Terrwyn heard Lindiel’s words and knew it was her cue to enter the scene. She went back to the kitchen doorway and stepped into the dim glow of the living room lights. “Hello Taldred,” she greeted him.

“Terrwyn.” His voice sounded relieved. “Oh dear Terrwyn.” He rushed over to her and grasped her hands, looking her over as if examining her. The young man glanced over his shoulder to his wife who nodded and Taldred pulled Terrwyn into his arms. “By the gods, you are safe. I was so worried.”

“I am fine,” she said as he crushed her against his chest. “But Taldred,” she wheezed.

“Yes?” he asked releasing his hold on her.

Quite suddenly and without explanation, Terrwyn shoved him hard, making him stumble backwards. “What were you thinking?” she reprimanded, turning on him at once. “You should never have told them about the night I ran away and your involvement. You could have been arrested, or worse . . . and you with a wife and a child on the way,” she yelled. “What were you thinking, man?” She punched his arm.

Taldred laughed as he rubbed his arm. “I see you still have that same fiery spirit. I had to. I could not stand the way they were treating you at the tribunal. It was unjust. I knew you were only protecting yourself that night. I believed you then and I believe you now. I was the closest thing to a witness that you had.”

“Well, you should not have done it.” Terrwyn shook her finger at him and then smiled. “But I’m glad you did. Just promise me you will mind your own business from now on and only worry about your wife and child.”

“I promise,” Taldred laughed.

The three friends sat in the living room and Taldred proceeded to tell the women what happened after the King sent Terrwyn from the room. “I was detained just as you thought and sent to a private waiting room. I was told there was someone standing guard outside the door and not to attempt anything foolish. It was torture not knowing what was happening. I could hear the muffled shouts outside and prayed that my testimony had done some good. It was hours before someone came to me and when they did, it was King Eomer, come to question me about my involvement. I told him all that I knew and I that I was guilty of. Then he proceeded to tell me what happened after I was confined.” Taldred took Terrwyn’s hand. “I found it difficult to believe at first, when he told me that your brother had been found. Not only that, but he was responsible for your release as well.”

“I am still quite in shock myself,” Terrwyn responded.

“And is it also true what he said about you . . . about being . . . part elf?” His words were said softly, as if he was almost afraid to ask.

“What?” Lindiel gasped.

Terrwyn nodded. “It is true. Hathmund told me the story, all that he knows. I’m just not sure I completely understand it. That’s why I came here. I needed some time alone to think.”

“Why did you not stay with the elves that helped you? Surely they would know how to guide you and answer any questions,” Lindiel added.

“It’s not that easy,” Terrwyn muttered under her breath. “You see, I have fallen in love with one of them. He is half elven too and even though he knows I am human . . .” She paused. “Well, was human, or only half . . .” She stopped as her mind jumbled again. “Well, he was willing to give up his choice and be with me. I’m afraid that with this new information, he will want me to choose with him now . . . to sail with him as he originally planned before we met. I don’t even know what that means. As much as he sees himself as an elf, I see myself as human.”

“Have you spoken to him about this yet?” Lindiel asked.

“We only talked a moment before I felt the walls closing in on me and I ran away, here.”

Taldred leaned forward on the couch opposite of where Terrwyn sat and captured her with is bold eyes. “You gave me a gift when you left Rohan. You told me to never stop searching for the one who would make my life complete. And then Lindiel came back to Rohan and I understood exactly what you meant. I will offer you the same advice you gave me. Go to him, Terrwyn. If you love him and if he loves you as much as you say, it will work for both of you. Do not hide from him. Tell him your true feelings so that he will know what worries you.

Even as a child when you came to Edoras, you talked of nothing but the elves. I can understand why now. You belong with them. You always have even before you learned of your true heritage.”

“I am beginning to realize that too,” Terrwyn answered. “But there is so much more to contemplate than just this. It means my mother strayed from her marriage. It means my father that I loved deeply, was not my father, and I will never know who this elf was that sired me. What traits of his do I exemplify? What part of him do I carry except for my half heritage?”

Lindiel left Taldred’s side to join Terrwyn where she sat. She put an arm around her friend and cradled her head upon her breast. “Now, now Terrwyn, there are many things for you to sort out, but you do not need to do it all in one night. You are welcomed to stay here tonight or for as long as you like. So much has happened to you today. You need to rest now.”

Tears traced down Terrwyn’s cheek. “Are you sure I am not being a burden to either of you?”

“Of course not, dearest,” Lindiel answered. “You just take your time. We will take care of you for now.”

After Terrwyn regained her composure, Lindiel walked her to the guest room. This was where Terrwyn slept when she lived here. Never had she felt so at home, yet completely alone.

Lindiel heated some herbal tea to help Terrwyn rest easily. She gave her a nightgown from the closet and turned down the bed. Once Terrwyn was beneath the covers, Lindiel leaned over her, brushing her stray red curls from her face. Terrwyn smiled. “You will make a wonderful mother, my friend.”

“Yes, I suppose you are good practice for me. Sleep now and everything will look much brighter in the morning.” Lindiel kissed her friend’s forehead and then left the small bedroom.

* * *

“I must go to her,” Feredir said determinedly as he reached for the door handle. 

Orthorien braced his hand against Feredir’s shoulder, stopping him. “Let her be, brother. She needs this time to herself.”

“You did not see the look in her eyes. She is confused and angry. She may even loath me, but none of that matters. I need to find her and talk to her,” Feredir insisted. When Orthorien blocked the door, keeping his brother from leaving, the dark elf began pacing the room. Orthorien’s heart went out to him. He could feel Feredir’s concern for Terrwyn. He couldn’t blame him. Love could make the sternest of men turn into a crazed fool.

“She has a lot to consider, Feredir. You have known your whole life that you were half elven. This must be a strain on her right now. Think of how she feels to know her life has just changed. Her family, her heritage, nothing is what she thought it once was.”

“That is why I must go to her,” Feredir argued. “While everything else is in a jumble, I am still the same. I have not changed and my feelings for her have not either.”

“And she knows that, brother, but you may only make matters worse right now. Just give her time and then go find her. And when you do, be gentle with her. Let her speak first. Do not talk of choices and sailing. All of that will be dealt with eventually. Right now she needs you to listen.”

Feredir calmed at the sound of Orthorien’s voice. Again, his brother was right. Terrwyn’s safety and well-being was all Feredir could think about recently. This was something he could not protect her from. She needed to deal with this in her own way and only she knew what was best. He stopped pacing the floor and stood in front of his older brother, eyes turned to the floor as if in defeat. Orthorien put his arm around Feredir’s shoulder and smiled. “Mother raised you right. You are more than a soldier. I could never have changed that about you no matter how hard I tried. I would never try to change you again. You are strong, Feredir, strong in heart as well as brawn and I love you, brother.”

These small admissions were still new to Orthorien and made him feel uncomfortable once the words left his lips, but he meant everything he said. Feeling as if the moment lasted longer than he had hoped, he released Feredir and gave him a good hard brotherly slap on the back. “Now,” he said in a cheery tone to wipe the air clean of his recent affirmation. “Horphen has told me of a tavern where we can go and not worry about any of these visitors from today’s events. It is naught more than a dirty hole of a place, but the ale is the best one can find in Rohan. I say we go and unwind. What say you, Feredir? Care to join me in a round or two?”

Feredir sighed deep then raised his head, meeting his brother’s grin. “Aye, sounds like a fine idea.”

* * *

Terrwyn lay in her bed, her mind still rushing through everything. She thought of her visions of the lush fern covered forest and the presence she always felt. That had always been Feredir. There was no doubt about that now. How many other things had happened to her that she could not explain? Oh yes, there was the tree hut in Firien woods. Standing upon the wooden floor, looking out over the forest had given her such a sense of peace and belonging. She couldn’t explain it then, but now she knew what that longing had meant. Growing up in the Westfold had left her little chance of playing in the forest so she hadn’t known what it felt like to be amongst the trees until Taldred took her to meet Rosloch. Terrwyn understood the connection all too clearly as being her elvishness calling out, wanting to stay within the safety of the trees.

Another thought crossed her mind. There had been several times that someone whispered something not meant for her to hear, but she heard nonetheless. It surprised her sometimes, especially when she answered the person whispering. Terrwyn remembered her brother teasing her as a child. “You have the hearing of an elf,” he would say and they would laugh. Now she knew just how true that was.

There were other little mishaps, as she would call them, but she never paid them any mind. Things were starting to fall into place and she understood more and more why she was like this. It all lead back to her elvish heritage. Admitting that still seemed strange to her. Terrwyn shook her head and drifted off to sleep. There was too much to think about and the overlapping thoughts were becoming too much. Her eyes closed and soon she was in her secret forest. The smells of a home were slowly replaced by fresh leaves and young ferns. The crackle of the fire in the hearth turned to the lite chirping of crickets and Terrwyn drifted into her vision, wishing Feredir were with her now.

* * *

The elf brothers met Horphen at the small tavern and joined in conversation. Orthorien and Horphen laughed and told battle stories, but Feredir remained distant. His only thought was of Terrwyn and what she was feeling right now. When the others tried to get him to join in their jesting, he adorned a false smile and nodded. He was fooling no one.

Orthorien and Horphen looked at each other with a silent agreement. They would test Feredir to see just how much he was listening.

“And did I ever tell you about Feredir’s first kiss?” Orthorien said to Horphen.

“Why no, do tell,” Horphen answered with exaggeration.

“Well, he was still slight and scrawny then. No elleth would have anything to do with him, and so he practiced on a goat,” Orthorien answered. The two elves waited for Feredir’s reply, but none came.

“Isn’t that right, Feredir?” Orthorien asked, nudging his brother.

Feredir’s attention came back to the present and he smiled. “Yes, yes that’s right,” he admitted though he had not heard the conversation leading up to the question.

Both elves broke into a fit of laughter and Feredir creased his brows. “What is so funny?” he said irritated.

Horphen slapped his friend on the back. “Really now, your first kiss was with a goat? Did the furry lip not tickle you nose?” he joked. “Or maybe you like that kind of thing.”

“First kiss with a goat?” His sight fell upon his brother. “What nonsense have you been filling his head with?”

“We only wanted to see if you were listening ,” Orthorien answered with a smile. “And this proves that you are not even in this tavern with us tonight.”

“I’m afraid I am not good company.” Feredir looked into his half-filled mug. It was obvious to the others where his mind was. “If you don’t mind, I think I will take my leave.”

“Go on then, brother,” Orthorien replied. “You will find no answers in the bottom of that mug you are holding.”

Feredir glanced at Orthorien and saw the wink in his eye. The dark elf smiled a true half grin before pushing his chair back and standing. He said goodnight to both elves and left the pub, exiting into the brisk night air. The wind had picked up and there was the smell of rain. He tightened his cloak around his body and turned to head back to Meduseld, where King Eomer had graciously given him a room to stay.

Feredir took only a few steps and stopped. What was he doing? Why was he letting himself feel such despair? He loved Terrwyn and should not let her be alone during this confusing time. Orthorien’s words rang true. He should not expect her to know what direction she would choose. It was too soon. And he should not expect her to make the same choice as he. The decision to stay or sail was no longer his own. It belonged to both of them now and he suddenly needed her to know this, but where was she?

The dark haired elf entered the tavern once more and went to Horphen. “You know where she went don’t you?” he asked desperately.

“Feredir, I think Orthorien is correct. You should give her some time to--.”

“Please, just tell me where she is,” he pleaded. “Don’t make me tell Orthorien about your first kiss,” he threatened. Horphen went pale and felt Orthorien’s eyes upon him.

“Oh, please do not tell my brother anything. I would love to know about this kiss,” Orthorien teased as he leaned towards Horphen, making the younger elf feel rather embarrassed.

“She went to Taldred and Lindiel’s home. It is not far from here. Just stay on the road. It is the last house on the corner . . . opposite side, mind you.” Horphen could not get the words out fast enough.

Feredir smiled fiendishly. “Thank you my dear friend.” He turned to leave, but stopped. “And I’m sure the ellon you kissed would thank you too, for not having to share that story,” he added just before leaving the tavern.

Orthorien turned a curious eye towards Horphen, who had turned redder than one of King Thranduil’s rubies. “Would you care to enlighten me?” he teased.

“No, I would not,” Horphen said with absolute denial. When Orthorien did not turn his attention away from him, he added. “It was a childish prank.” He paused. “I was a first year trainee.” Another pause, but Orthorien waited for more. “They blindfolded me,” Horphen finally admitted with defeat.

Orthorien laughed. “See, now that was not so painful. And I promise . . . not a word to anyone.”

Horphen breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” He picked up his mug and took a long drink.

“So, what was it like? Were his lips soft or strong and demanding?” Orthorien went on. Horphen choked on his ale and the older elf laughed until his sides hurt.

“I’m going to strip every precious black hair from Feredir’s head when I see him next,” Horphen seethed while Orthorien chortled.

“Relax my friend. I think it has happened to all of us at one time or another, especially during our youthful training years.” Orthorien patted Horphen on the shoulder while he spoke.

“So you were tortured as a first year too?”

“Oh of course,” Orthorien answered. Then a wicked grin spread across his face and Horphen knew he made a mistake by asking the last question. “That’s when I discovered I liked the strong demanding type.”

Horphen picked up his full mug and drank the contents without stopping. He slammed the mug down onto the table, searched the tavern until he caught the eye of servant and gestured for another round. Why, of all the elves in Arda, did Feredir have to slip that secret out to Orthorien? It was not a mystery, the older elf’s ability to choose either male or female companionship. In fact, he wore it quite proudly. But once he set his sights on his prey, he was a ruthless pursuer. He avoided Orthorien as long as he could, but felt his gaze from across the table as he waited for Horphen to respond. The last thing he wanted was to give Orthorien any false hopes. “Well, I discovered that I like the soft, supple, sweet lips of an elleth.” Horphen got up from his chair. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go take care of some business. This ale goes out as quickly as it goes in.”

Orthorien nodded and watched Horphen walk away. Whether he really needed to relieve himself or if he was just trying to get out of where the conversation was going, he could not be sure, but he laughed to himself and filed away another bit of information to tease Horphen with later.


	57. Forevermore

There was a light tapping on the front door. Lindiel awoke as soon as she heard it. Taldred was sound asleep, breathing deep and making a quiet whistle as he exhaled through his nose. She listened a moment. It was quite windy tonight and it had started raining. Maybe it was just raindrops hitting the wooden door, she thought. A second set of deliberate taps announced an unexpected visitor, but who? It had to have been late into the night by now. She nudged Taldred and he snorted as he came out of his slumber.

“What it is?” he asked groggily.

“Someone is at the door,” Lindiel answered.

“Are you sure? Sounds like it’s raining. Maybe it’s just--.”

tap . . . tap . . . tap tap . . .

Taldred was immediately wide awake, out of the bed and pulling his trousers on. He picked up a lamp, still dimly lit, and looked at Lindiel. “Stay here. I’ll see who it is,” he said with concern.

He went to the front door and sat the lantern down on a small table. His weapons belt hung on a hook beneath his coat. Taldred quietly removed a small knife that he kept there, tucking it into the waistband of his pants. “Who is there and what do you want at this late hour?” he demanded.

Feredir felt odd coming to someone’s home that he did not know, disturbing their sleep. “Please, if you don’t mind, may I come in? I am a friend of Terrwyn’s and I--.” The door instantly opened and the faint light of a lamp washed out onto the small porch.

Taldred was met by a rain sodden elf. He was hooded and cloaked, the material sadly drenched and drooping. One look into his silver eyes, and the young Rohirrim knew who this was. He opened the door wide and stepped aside. “Come in and get out of the weather.”

Feredir stepped just inside the threshold. “I do not want to soak your floor,” he said as he took off his cloak and laid it on a bench just outside the door.

“Never mind that, just get yourself out of the rain.” Taldred gestured for the elf to come further into his home. The cloak had done little to keep Feredir dry, but at least he was not soaked all the way through. The rain had just started, though it came down in buckets.

“I am sorry to disturb you, but a friend of mine told me I could find Terrwyn here. I hope he has not given me false information.”

“She is here,” answered Taldred a bit suspiciously. “She is sleeping now. The day was long as I am sure you are well aware of.”

“I am quite aware. It has been lengthy for us both. I just wanted to check on her and make sure she was well. I feel responsible for her,” Feredir went on.

Taldred was not sure what to think. Terrwyn had mentioned Feredir and the close relationship that developed between them, but he was also the reason she ran away from Eomer’s halls. “As I said before, she is asleep and I do not think it wise to wake her now.”

Feredir felt like an intruder. Maybe he was wrong to come here. “I honestly wanted to know that she was not in distress, but it seems that she is in capable hands.” Feredir took a step backwards towards the open door. “I’m sorry to have wakened you. I’ll just be on my way then.” Taldred did and said nothing to stop Feredir from leaving.

“Who is at the door?” said a quiet unexpected voice.

Taldred turned to find Lindiel standing in the hallway peering through the darkness. “It is alright, my wife. Just one of the elves that Terrwyn befriended come to check on her. He was just leaving.”

At the mention of an elf, Lindiel hurried into the living room. “You cannot turn him out into the rain, not on a nasty night like this,” she complained as she walked up next to her husband. “Please come back inside . . . um . . .”

“Feredir,” the elf answered from the threshold.

Lindiel gasped. “Feredir? Well now, you must come in. Terrwyn will be delighted to know you came for her,” she smiled.

Taldred gave her a concerned look. “Terrwyn needs her rest, my love. Besides, she asked not to see any visitors.” 

Lindiel smiled sweetly. “My dear, I hardly think Feredir is a visitor,” she said pushing past her husband. She reached for Feredir’s hand and when he offered it, she pulled him into the house. “Feredir, it is so nice to meet you. I have heard much about you.” She continued fussing over him until he was sitting on a comfortable chair by the fireplace. Then she disappeared into the kitchen to get something for their guest.

Taldred slowly walked up and joined Feredir in the chair opposite the elf, both males seeming a little on edge. Taldred spoke first. “Terrwyn has told us about you, about both of you actually. She is very much in love she says, yet I cannot help but sense some kind of disagreement between you and her.”

Feredir hung his head and looked into the fire, now only smoldering logs. “She made it very clear that she needed time and space, and I feel I have given her as much as I can tolerate. She should not be alone right now and I am the only one who knows what she is feeling.”

Taldred considered the elf’s words carefully. It was obvious that Feredir missed her greatly, but the man felt that Terrwyn shouldn’t be disturbed. “Could you not wait until the morning to speak with her?”

“Of course he couldn’t,” Lindiel interrupted as she passed through the kitchen doorway. She carried a plate of dried fruit and bread into the living room, sitting it on a table between the two handsome males. Then she made herself comfortable on her husband’s lap. She looked at Feredir, noticing his piercing silver eyes as they danced and sparkled in the dimly lit room. It did not take much light to illuminate them. “I understand your concern for Terrwyn. She was very distraught when she came here, but you should know that every word she spoke of you was purely out of love. She is not upset with you. She merely needed some time to clear her head.”

“That is good to know, my lady,” Feredir responded somewhat relieved. “But perhaps your husband is right and I should come back after the sun has risen.” He stood from his chair and bowed to the couple. “I am very sorry to disturb you. This was a rash decision on my part. I will go and leave you to your sleep.” He started for the door, but Lindiel jumped up and rushed to him, taking the elf by the arm.

“Lindiel, if he wants to leave then let him go,” Taldred called to her, feeling that his wife was being a bit pushy. The presumptuous woman ignored her husband and whispered into the elf’s ear.

“Please Feredir, I would have you stay despite my husband’s protests. Terrwyn is like a sister to me and I feel like I know her quite well even after such a long separation. I saw it in her eyes. I heard it in her voice. Without you she is incomplete. I am sure she will not be angry to see you, quite the opposite I would hope. Go to her. Tell her your true feelings. She needs something solid to hold onto during this tumultuous time. You are the one constant in her life.” Lindiel gestured towards the direction of Terrwyn’s room on the other side of their small home. “Please, just talk to her. She needs you now more than ever.” When Feredir did not move, Lindiel took his arm and guided him to Terrwyn’s bedroom door. When she got him there, she patted his hand and released his arm. Then she went to her husband and entwined her fingers with his. “Come, my love. Let us get back to our bed before all the warmth is spent.” She pulled Taldred along with her.

“Are you sure about this, Lindiel? Terrwyn seemed to not want to see him,” he whispered.

Lindiel touched her finger to his lips, shushing him. “I am a woman. I know these things,” she laughed. “They will be fine. There is nothing to worry about. Let’s just give them their peace.” She pulled her husband into their own room and closed the door behind them.

* * *

Feredir stood outside of Terrwyn’s door for what seemed like an eternity. Then he took a deep breath and slowly turned the doorknob, pushing the heavy door open. He stepped inside and shut it behind him. The low flicker of an oil lamp lit the room just enough for him to see his way to her bed. There she lay on her back, one arm stretched above her head, her slender fingers tangled in her red hair. Her face was turned away from him so that he could only see her profile. Gods, she was beautiful, he thought to himself as he watched her sleep. He eased himself onto the bed, sitting next to her and reached out to gently move some of the fiery waves that covered part of her face, tucking it behind her ear. The disturbance made her let out a moan as she turned her head towards Feredir and he silently watched her, studying everything about her.

Terrwyn felt a presence around her as she came out of her sleep. She took a deep breath and recognized the aura right away. Her eyes gradually opened to find Feredir looking down at her. “I must still be dreaming,” she whispered.

“Tis not a dream, Naru. I am here,” he answered with a warm and loving smile. “I know you said you needed your space, but--.”

Terrwyn sprang up from the bed and cut him off with a kiss. Her arms moved around his chest to his back and she pulled him into her. Feredir lowered her back onto the bed as he answered her demanding kisses. His long black hair surrounded them, shutting out what little light there was in the room.

“I dreamt that we were in your talan home in Ithilien, the one you showed me before we left,” she said when their lips separated. “I think I finally understand why I have longed to be amongst the elves and the trees. This part of me has lay dormant within my soul until I met you. You awakened something within me, but I did not know what it was. It was as if you were calling out to me.”

“I felt it too, but I chose to ignore it at first. I did not understand it myself. You were human. It was not possible to yearn for your soul. Still, I felt you all the time and now we know why.” Feredir sat up, taking Terrwyn with him. 

“And what if I choose to remain human. What if I choose to ignore my elvish blood? I cannot ask you to give up your choice as a Peredhil nor would I want you to influence my own decisions.” She brought her knees up to her chest as she moved away from him.

“Terrwyn, you are a free woman now. For the first time in your life, you answer to no one but yourself. I would respect and support any decision you make. My own life is forfeit without you in it. I meant what I told you. I love you and I never want to leave you. I would give up my choice to be with you then, and I would do it now. My home is wherever you are. My heart belongs to you no matter what happens. The choice is no longer mine alone. We will choose together, Naru. I will follow you to Ithilien or beyond the ends of the earth. Nothing matters to me but your happiness. I am bound to you now and for always.” Feredir climbed further onto the bed, crossing his legs and facing her. Terrwyn’s arms were wrapped around her bent knees and she seemed to be hiding from him. When she made no move to acknowledge him, he touched her arms and she released her knees and he moved towards her. Terrwyn stretched her legs out and Feredir pulled her by her ankles until he moved her so that she was sitting in his lap. Face to face, the dark elf pushed her unruly hair from her face and captured her green eyes.

“Do you know it means when I say that I am bound to you?” he asked.

Terrwyn smiled and looked down and to the side. “It means you love me?” she answered with a question.

Feredir could not help but notice how innocent and childlike she seemed in that one single moment and his heart soared to new heights. “You really do not know, do you?” He smiled as he caught her chin, forcing her to look at him again. Ai, there was much to teach her about elvish culture. He laughed softly. “My sweet Terrwyn,” he started, searching for the right way to explain. “You see, when humans love it is with their hearts and that is enough for them. But when an elf loves, it is with our whole being. I do love you with all of my heart, but also with my mind, my flesh, with every breath and from the furthest reaches of my soul. You are a part of me now and I give myself to you with no reserves. I trust that you will take me as I am and keep those deepest parts of my being safe. This is what it means to love as an elf. This is what I mean when I say that I am bound to you.”

Terrwyn could not look away. She could not even blink, for the connection they shared was so strong. She no longer felt alone. Any challenges that might arise would be dealt with together. “I’m sorry, Feredir. I did not mean to run from you. I did not want to hurt you. So many things were revealed to me all at once. I felt like I was drowning, but you . . . you are my beacon of light and no matter where I am I will know that you are there. You look at me and it is as if everything fades around me. There is only you. You are my nourishment, my knowledge, my fortress. You sustain me somehow that I cannot explain.”

Feredir tilted his head and drew her towards him until their lips were so close that they breathed the same air, then he whispered. “Bind to me Terrwyn. Please tell me you want this just as much as I and I promise you that we will never be apart again. We will sustain each other until our dying breath or for eternity. I do not care what our futures hold, as long as we are together.”

She looked into his bright eyes and saw that eternity he spoke of. Smiling she answered. “Yes, Feredir, I bind myself you.” Terrwyn closed the distance and pressed her lips against his. She felt something transpire between them, first through their lips and then between their bodies where they made contact. It was as if they melted together, consuming each other’s spirits, and when the separated they each held a part of the other within them. She would always feel him now, whether he was next to her or miles away.

Feredir released her from the kiss and searched her face. “Did you feel that?” he asked astonished.

“I did,” she answered, amazed that he did also. “I want to feel it again.”

Feredir kissed her, but with more passion. Something invisible washed between them, parts of it mingling together and remaining behind within one another. Terrwyn broke away and looked into his silver eyes. “It happened again, didn’t it? You felt it too.”

“Yes, and I don’t want it to stop, do you?” His naïve tone surprised Terrwyn and she shook her head in agreement.

“You are an elf,” she said accusingly. “Don’t you know what this is?”

Feredir laughed. “You are an elf also, don’t forget.”

Terrwyn slapped his arm playfully. “I mean, you must know something about this. What is this feeling, Feredir?”

“It is part of our binding I suppose, like a marriage between humans, but a marriage of spirits.”

“So am I your wife now?” Her form of questioning made Feredir laugh to himself.

“You are almost my wife. There is still one more step that will complete the ceremony.” He pushed her back, lowering her onto the bed as he covered her body.

Terrwyn giggled. “Not here, Feredir.”

He sucked on her neck as his hands roamed along her sides down to her hips. They grabbed the ends of her nightgown and began pulling the soft material up. “What is wrong with here? We are alone. You are already half naked.”

Terrwyn would have given in to him but for the fact that this was Taldred and Lindiel’s house and they were probably awake and . . . “Just not here, please?” she pleaded.

Feredir rolled off her body and stretched out alongside her. “The King gave me my own quarters, but it is raining and the walk back is long and--.”

Quicker than he thought possible, Terrwyn jumped up from the bed. She grabbed a cloak that was draped over a nearby chair and pulled it over her shoulders. Her feet slid into a pair of Lindiel’s slippers that she had borrowed. “Let’s go then,” she demanded.

Feredir went to her and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her against his strapping body. “You will catch a cold going out into this kind of weather, barely dressed as you are.”

“I am an elf, am I not?” she teased.

“Half elf,” he answered, an eyebrow cocked mischievously. 

“Well then, you will just have to warm me once we get to your quarters.” She moved her hips suggestively, feeling the hard bulge of his desire beneath his trousers.

They kissed once more and then quietly slipped out of their guest’s home. The rain had let up so that it was only a misting drizzle. With their arms entwined around each other, the lovers made their way in the darkness of the night to Eomer’s guest home.

 

* * *

Feredir shut the door behind him and turned to look at Terrwyn. Her hair was damp from the rain and it clung to the side of her face. He walked the few steps across the room until he was standing before her and pushed her wet tresses from her face. Terrwyn released the clasp at the neck of the cloak and let it fall to the floor. She had already kicked off her slippers and now stood in only the borrowed nightgown. The candles on the table behind her illuminated the light material so that Feredir could see the silhouette of her body. He reached for the hem of the gown and slowly eased it up her body, over her hips and past her waist. Terrwyn raised her arms above her head and Feredir finished undressing her. He threw the gown to the floor and undressed himself next.

She watched how his body moved as he worked to remove his clothes. Then when he removed his shirt, she saw the evidence of new scars upon his chest and back. She gasped slightly, not expecting to see him injured. He had never told her what happened in Rhûn, but it was obvious that something very serious occurred. She hadn’t realized she was staring until he spoke.

“I did what I needed to do to save your life. The scars will fade away, but I could not bear the thought of never holding you again in my arms.” He pulled her to him, flesh touching flesh. The mingling sensation was no longer restricted by clothing and the feeling was exquisite.

They stood at the foot of the bed and Feredir carefully lowered Terrwyn onto the soft mattress. She moved along on her back, scooting up until her head touched the plush pillows colored green and gold. As she moved, Feredir crawled along on hands and knees and when she stopped, he nudged her legs apart and covered her with his body. His arousal pressed against her entrance and she immediately wrapped her legs around his waist. In a synchronized movement worthy of the ancient dance of lovers, Feredir slid into her moist warmth until he was fully sheathed. Terrwyn arched her back, offering him every part of her body. The sensation of an invisible mist curled around their arms and legs. It seeped into their flesh and fused their bodies together as they writhed against each other.

Feredir set his rhythm, pumping slow and deep, feeling her inner muscles massaging his pulsating cock.   
Terrwyn’s arms wrapped around his body and her back lifted off the bed. He supported them both with his strong arms, hands braced on the mattress, elbows locked. He tossed his head back, his long black hair flipping through the air. Then he lowered her back to the bed, descending his head, hair falling over his shoulders.

Feredir got to his knees, bringing Terrwyn with him. He lifted her hips, her head and shoulders remaining on the bed. In this position, he could see all of her, watch the pleasure on her face as they completed their binding. Her eyes were closed, brows creased and her mouth opened to let out a moan. He loved the sounds she made as he satisfied her. He increased his rhythm just to hear her voice as it rose higher in pitch and volume.

Terrwyn opened her eyes slightly to look upon this magnificent creature that was ruling her body. The ripples of his stomach convulsed as his hips pushed forward and his cock slid in deeper. She could always tell when Feredir was getting close to completion, as he was now. First, he clenched his teeth together and inhaled deeply, then he opened his mouth wide, closed his eyes and tossed his head back, making that guttural moan that drove her wild with need. As he did, he pushed into her body until he touched her innermost wall, that one spot that was ecstasy for both of them. He held himself there and made short, deep, hard thrusts. It would not be long now.

Feredir pumped into her body, watching how her breasts bounced. He wanted taste them, suck the pliant flesh into his mouth and roll his tongue around her hardened nipples, but he was too close to completion to abandon his current position. Her body was responding along with his in unison, bound by hot flesh, spirits soaring ever higher.

His strong hands gripped her waist and lifted her body. “Come here, Naru.” As he spoke, he pulled her up from the bed and Terrwyn pushed up onto her elbows until Feredir could grasp her more firmly. Then he brought her forward, off the bed and upright, looking face to face. He sat back on his heels, legs tucked beneath him and arms surrounding her, holding her close and nuzzling her neck.

Terrwyn inhaled his scent, so masculine yet of the earth. He was raw strength, able to lift her as if she equaled the weight of a feather, the same strength that could easily crush the life from an enemy. She felt that power now as their bodies touched, as their spirits coalesced.

And then, their eyes met and they could see the stars of a million centuries within green and silver hues. Now they were joined, one mind, one body, one soul, and nothing could break this new bond. They would yearn for each other, speak across miles, feel one another’s heartbeat that pulsated as if they were a single living entity.

Terrwyn had the advantage now as she rode Feredir deeper towards their bond. Her long red hair spilled down her back, brushing across his knees. Her legs clenched his hips and he was buried to the hilt inside her sumptuous body. What started out as friction increased to a warm static charge that spread between both of their bodies, intertwining, fusing them together until finally they peeked and could go no higher. All of the energy that was building within them now flowed out in the form of each other’s names. They writhed and grasped each other’s warm moist flesh, one trying to absorb the other, moans of ecstasy filling the air. Feredir spilled his seed deep within her, pulsing and pumping. Terrwyn’s breath caught as the sensation of having him fill her made her forget to exhale until she thought her lungs would burst. When she finally released her breath, it was his name that she called over and over until her chest was void of air. And then they supported their spent bodies, holding tightly to each other, Terrwyn’s arms wrapped around his neck, breasts pushing against his chest and legs still clenched about his waist. Feredir buried his face in her neck and felt them breathe together, their heart’s beating in unison again.

The world around them was still, as if time stopped and they were the only things alive. They held each other for what felt like forever and let their minds and bodies recover. Finally, time sped up to a normal pace and the newly bound lovers kissed with weakened strength. Sweat glistened upon their flesh and the scent of sex filled the small guest room. Feredir gently laid Terrwyn down onto the pillows and left the comfort of her body. He came to rest at her side and she curled into his chest. He wrapped his body around her, unable to separate from the sensation of her naked flesh.

“How do you feel?” Feredir asked breaking the silence.

Terrwyn smiled against his chest. “I feel restored, yet so inexperienced. I’m not sure how to explain it. I am still myself, but there is something fresh, something new within me.”

“I feel it too and I think it is our bond. From here on out, we will feel this connection. It will become more familiar as the days pass, or so I’m told. This is a first for me too.” He laughed to himself. “It is wonderful to experience something new and to be able to share it with you.”

Terrwyn lifted her head and looked at Feredir with a replenished gleam in her green eyes. “We are equals now. We are not just lovers or companions, but we are balanced as long as we have each other.”

“I suppose you are right, Naru.” He kissed the top of her head. “Inseparable we shall always be from this day forward, a love that will stand the tides of time.”

Terrwyn kissed his neck and snuggled in close, contouring to his warm body. “Forevermore, my love is yours Feredir.”

“Forevermore, my beautiful Terrwyn,” he whispered before both drifted off into a well-earned slumber.


	58. Elvish Teachings

By the time the sun rose, the clouds had broken up and the rain had ended. Terrwyn blinked her eyes and breathed in deep. Ah, there was nothing better than waking up in Rohan after a rainstorm during the night. The air was fresher, cleansed from the dry dirt and dust after a drought. She turned her head and gazed upon the elf lying next to her. Well, maybe there was one thing better than that, waking up in the arms of Feredir. She traced her finger over the bridge of his nose, across his kissable lips and down his square chin, noticing how handsome his profile was . . . and he belonged to her.

Today was not only a new day, but also a rebirth. Terrwyn was exonerated of any charges against her. She would never have to look over her shoulder again. Of course, there were those that would never accept the King’s decision, but that was their burden now. She was free of this encumbrance, ready to begin a new life and that new life now included Feredir. 

Terrwyn rolled onto her side so that she was facing him as he lay on his back, hands folded and neatly placed upon his stomach. Her lips caressed his cheek repeatedly with feathery kisses as she recalled the previous night. They had bonded, the equivalency of a human marriage, but this went much deeper and the feeling was exquisite. There was still a chance for many things to go wrong, to meet many challenges, but Feredir was a constant in her life now. He would always be there. She would never have to do things on her own again.

Her light ministrations brought him out of his sleep and a smile slowly spread across his mouth. “I want to wake this way every day,” he whispered before turning on his side to face his new bride. “Good morning, my sweet Naru.”

“Good morning, my handsome husband,” she answered and then creased her brows. “That is what you are now, right?”

Feredir laughed. “For now and always. And you are my hervess, my wife.”

Terrwyn smiled and captured his lips, kissing him and giggling. “I like that very much. And how do you say ‘husband’?”

“Hervenn.”

Terrwyn said the name and Feredir repeated it several times until it rolled off her tongue. “Spoken like a true elf,” he teased.

“I have so much to learn,” she said, slightly disappointed. “I know absolutely nothing about being elvish.”

Feredir captured her chin. “I will teach you everything you need to know. We have a lifetime to learn, an eternity if this should be your choice. We can start now if you like.”

Terrwyn batted her eyes and smiled shyly. “Alright.”

Feredir kissed the tip of her nose. “Nem.”

“Nose?”

“Very good,” he answered and lifted her arm to his lips, kissing his way along its length. “Ranc.”

“Arm.”

“You catch on fast.”

“Give me another,” she asked excitedly.

He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “Cam.”

“Hand?”

“Good.” He turned her hand palm up and traced the lines with his tongue. “Camlann.”

“Tongue?” She was beginning to lose concentration as she found herself being seduced by his game.

“No, it means palm of hand,” he corrected her. Then he rolled onto her with his naked body. He covered her mouth, devouring her and pushing his tongue past her lips. Feredir began to harden immediately, needing to be inside her. He released her mouth and smiled. “Lam.”

“Oh, that means tongue,” she said, needing more of him. “And how do you say ‘don’t stop’?”

“Avo dharo,” he whispered and plundered her mouth once more. He nudged his knee between her thighs as his hand reached down to her center, finding her quite moist and ready for him. “Bestatham meneg lu po i chaust hen.”

Terrwyn almost did not care what he said as the words flowed like a song from his lips, but Feredir repeated it in the common language so that she could understand. “Let us wed a thousand times on this bed.”

Terrwyn swooned. “Oh Feredir,” she moaned in a breathy whisper and he slid into her body.

They made love beneath the thick covers of the bed, moving slow and deliberate. Feredir lay atop her body, hands braced beneath her shoulders, his mouth assaulting hers and capturing her cries of ecstasy. He held back his own release and satisfied her repeatedly throughout the morning, waiting until the moment was right to take his own comfort and flood her body with his essence. This last time they came together, calling out one another’s names and declaring their love. They spent the entire morning in this fashion and then finally fell into a light slumber within each other’s arms.

* * *

Half of the day was gone when they woke again. Someone was tapping on the door. Feredir kissed Terrwyn before he got out of bed and quickly put his trousers on. Then he went to his door and cracked it open. Terrwyn watched him smile to whoever was there and she pulled the sheet up around her chin. In walked Orthorien with a sly look on his face as he glanced around the room. “What favor must you have done to receive such a rich room, when all I was allotted was something comparable to a servants quarters?” he jested. Then his sights fell upon Terrwyn sitting in the bed with only her head exposed. She could just see his mind working, trying to figure out exactly was had happened. It would not take much to guess.

“Well, Orthorien, if you were in the servants quarters it must have been because you seduced the rooms owner into allowing you to stay,” Terrwyn teased before the golden haired elf could say anything.

He laughed and bowed his head. “Well played my lady and all too true. You know me well.”

“Yes, I do and I would appreciate it if you and Feredir talked out in the hall until I am properly dressed. As you can see, we were not expecting visitors today.”

Orthorien was taken aback by Terrwyn’s playful mood. He truly did not know what to say and Feredir laughed. “Come my brother, let us speak in the hall. I have some news that I think you will like to hear.” He turned his head, looked back at Terrwyn over his shoulder and winked. Then he led Orthorien outside. Terrwyn took the opportunity to slip back into her borrowed nightgown and cloak, just to make sure she was properly covered.

“Horphen and I wondered what happened to you last night. So it seems you found her then,” Orthorien said once they were in the hallway.

A smile spread across Feredir’s face. “Yes, I found her.”

Orthorien looked at him curiously. “I cannot ever remember you seeming so cheerful before. There is definitely something different and it seems that Terrwyn had a lot to do with it.” He was teasing, of course. Orthorien knew how strongly Feredir felt for Terrwyn. It was obvious that the woman was not upset with him and they seemed to spend most of the day resolving their differences.

“She had everything to do with my unusually good mood, as you say.” Feredir clasped Orthorien’s shoulder and looked him straight in the eyes. “Terrwyn and I are bound now, brother.”

A genuine smile slowly spread as Orthorien searched his young brother’s face, seeing how happy he was. “Well now, this is a surprise, but then I would expect nothing less from you Feredir. Always the one to jump in first, whether in battle or in love,” Orthorien laughed. “I knew it would only be a matter of time. I’ve seen the love you two share. Congratulations, Feredir.”

While the brother’s embraced and shared the special moment, one of the King’s maids passed the two elves where they stood in the hall. Feredir watched as she eyed Orthorien, giving him a crooked smile and a wink. Then she turned her eyes to Feredir, who stood shirtless in only his loose trousers. She licked her lips and then looked back to Orthorien. He leaned towards her and whispered. “He is my brother and he is married.”

She seemed to pout and answered. “Such a shame, but one elf is more than enough for me.” Then she kept on her way, but not before she gave the tall blond elf a friendly pat on his bottom.

Both elves stood silent as they watched the saucy maid continue down the hall. Then Feredir nudged his brother. “I take it that was the servant whose room you stayed in last night.”

“Now I see what you found so appealing about Terrwyn. Rohirric women . . .” Orthorien answered and winked.

Feredir shared in a laugh with his older brother. “I’d best be getting back now. Don’t expect to see us today, but soon we should start plans for leaving Rohan.”

“We are already this far, maybe we should journey to Mirkwood,” Orthorien suggested.

“The same thought has crossed my mind also. We need to see Mother. It has been a long while since you left. She will be wondering where we both are.”

Orthorien nodded. “I think that is a wise choice.”

The brothers embraced once more before Feredir returned to his room. He closed and locked the door behind him, finding Terrwyn standing by a window, gazing out across the plains. He went to her and surrounded her with his strong arms. “I cannot stand to be away from you for so long.”

Terrwyn smiled as he kissed the back of her neck. “You were only gone a moment or two and you were right outside the door.”

“It was too long and too far,” he said as he turned her in his arms, needing to look into her eyes. “I was speaking with Orthorien and I think it is time we went to my homeland, to Mirkwood.”

Terrwyn hugged him. “That would be wonderful, Feredir. I’ve never been to any of the elven realms before, and to see your home first would be a great honor.”

“We can go anywhere you want now that you are free.” Feredir scooped her up in his arms and Terrwyn gasped in surprise when her feet left the ground. “And right now I want to go back to bed.” He carried her the short distance to their bed and tossed her onto the fur throws. Terrwyn let out a short yell as she landed sideways on the bed. Feredir gave her a fiendish smile and dived onto the bed after her, but Terrwyn rolled out of the way and the dark elf ended up with a fur throw in his face instead. He rolled onto his back and Terrwyn jumped on him, straddling his hips with her thighs. She leaned down and kissed him hard, pushing her tongue past his lips. She released him and continued down his chin to his neck and shoulder when something caught her attention. Terrwyn stopped her ministrations and studied the new pink scar.

“Feredir, what is this and where is the leaf tattoo that used to be here?” she asked touching the fresh wound.

He grabbed her wrist rather hard, not meaning to, and pulled it away. “Don’t touch that.” His tone was low and soft. He realized he held her arm too tight and released her.

Terrwyn did not flinch, though his grip had hurt. She remained still and looked to his eyes, seeing his own pain within their silver tinge. “Tell me what happened, Feredir. I am a part of you and I want to share all of your emotions, even this.”

He was trapped by her body straddling his and had turned his head away from her, not wanting to look into her eyes. Terrwyn captured his chin and turned him to face her. His eyes remained closed and she brushed his hair from his face, lingering over his pointed ears until he finally gazed up at her.

Her face showed her concern and Feredir knew there was nothing he could hide from her now. She would feel everything he felt, especially something as personal as this. “Did I ever tell you of the significance of the leaf marking?”

Terrwyn shook her head and sat up while Feredir remained lying on the bed, vulnerable and emotionally exposed. He went on. “It is a rite of passage among Mirkwood warriors, usually given to the soldier on the day he is accepted into the Woodland King’s army. It is also a tradition passed down from father to son. Orthorien has one, given to him by his father and had he not perished, he would have done the same for me. My brother was going to do this, and that was fine, but it was not the same. At the time, my father was very old and still lived in Gondor. It was my mother who sent word to him, asking him to come just for this occasion. At the time, King Thranduil had set very strict rules about outsiders coming into his kingdom. It took my mother convincing the King to allow my father entry, but eventually Thranduil agreed.

I had never met my father before this. I never expected to meet him. It was just part of the agreement between him and my mother. He had made a new life for himself and she felt she had brought enough pain to our family. It hurt knowing he lived, but that I could not see him. Still, I managed on my own and ignored the ache.” 

Feredir paused and remembered the days long passed, smiling as he thought of his father. “The day he arrived in Mirkwood was very exciting as well as nerve wracking. I did not know what to expect, no one did, not even my mother. Theirs was a chance meeting, two passing strangers, but he was my blood link to my human half, that part of me that I never fully understood. He was a very stout man, even for his age. He carried himself proudly, a true man of Gondor, valiant and fearless, a hero in his own time. His hair was grey and his face was weathered, but when I looked into his eyes, I saw part of myself. This was my father, I thought, my own flesh and blood. He embraced me as if we had known one another for a lifetime and he examined me from head to toe. Then he nodded and smiled and for the first time, he called me ‘son’. And on that very day, he gave me my marking and called me a true soldier, just as he had been once. This leaf meant more to me than just a rite of passage. It was his gift to me, his approval, his love for a son he had never known.”

Feredir reached up and touched the scar. “And now it is gone, replaced by a mad man’s brand.”

Terrwyn leaned down, laying her head on his chest. “I am so sorry that this happened to you. I cannot help but feel partly responsible.”

“It was the risk I took when I made the choice to fight for you. It was my sacrifice to make and it is nothing compared to losing you, Naru.” As he spoke, he rolled them over so that now Feredir was lying on top of Terrwyn. He brushed his lips across hers, first one way and then the other. Terrwyn’s hand slid to the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in his tousled hair, and brought her mouth to his, connecting with him through their new bond. They kissed and their bodies came to life once again. She released him and laughed as she looked up into his smiling eyes.

“You said a thousand times on this bed and if I have counted correctly it has only been--.” She was interrupted by another hungry kiss, this time with tongues caressing as Feredir’s hands worked to rid her of the nightgown once more.

Feredir released her breasts from the confining material and took each one into his mouth, when there was an abrupt knocking on their door. He looked up and yelled. “Go away.”

The person on the opposite side of the door knocked again and this time Feredir reached over the side of the bed and picked up one of his boots, throwing it at the wooden door. “I said go away and come back later. Better yet, come back tomorrow.”

“Feredir, it’s Horphen. I must speak to you now. It is urgent.”

The dark haired ellon reluctantly sat up, leaving Terrwyn lying on the bed. Quickly, she laced up the front of her nightgown and reached for her discarded cloak, wrapping it around her body. Feredir went to the door and opened it. “I pray for your safety that this is important, Horphen,” he growled to his friend.

“You know I would not come to you otherwise,” Horphen said as he entered the room, closing the door behind him. “I’m afraid we cannot stay much longer. Things go ill in the city. Bregmund’s father is organizing a group of men to challenge the King’s decision to set Terrwyn free. All is well now and the King is still in control. It would take a great army to threaten the King of Rohan and there are many who support his decision. However, Eomer fears for Terrwyn’s safety and the longer she stays here, the more dangerous these men could become.”

Terrwyn went to the two elves. “I have as much right as any other citizen to stay here. I will not let a bunch of mislead heathens decide for me. Besides, I cannot leave Hathmund so soon. We have just reunited. You cannot ask me to abandon my brother now.”

“Horphen is right, Terrwyn,” Feredir said. “We cannot risk putting your life in danger. We should leave at least until things calm a bit. Give the people time to come to terms and then we can come back.”

“No, Feredir, I cannot just leave and--.”

Horphen interrupted. “Perhaps Hathmund will go with us. We do not need to leave just yet. We still have a couple days before we must go. Talk to your brother, Terrwyn. I know that Ithilien would welcome him and make him feel at home.”

Terrwyn nodded. “I will speak with him then.”

“Good,” Horphen smiled. “Oh, I almost forgot. Lady Lindiel sent this to you, some clothes she thought perhaps you would like to have.” He stepped out into the hall and came back with a package, handing it to Terrwyn. “She says she will not be needing them now, with the child on the way and all.”

“Thank you, Horphen,” she said as she took the package and carried it to the bed, carefully unwrapping it and finding a few simple dresses and a pair of slippers.

While she was busy, Horphen whispered. “We may need to leave tomorrow. I do not trust these men and I have seen how quickly they can gather a mob. Talk to Terrwyn, but we best be on our way soon.” Feredir nodded and Horphen smiled. “I also hear that congratulations are in order. This was meant to be, you and Terrwyn. I’m happy to see this union.”

“Maybe you will be next, my friend,” Feredir teased.

“Oh no, not this elf,” Horphen laughed. “There is still too much to sample upon these shores.”

The two friends spoke a moment longer before Horphen left. Feredir turned to find Terrwyn holding up a yellow dress and looking down at herself, trying to see how it might look. He studied the way her long red hair cascaded over her shoulder, the way she spun on the balls of her feet as she twisted and turned. She was feminine grace as he had ever seen. “That has always been my favorite color on you.”

Terrwyn only gave him a half smile and then laid the dress back on the bed, sitting next to the open package. “I know we must leave sooner than Horphen leads on. As I made my way to Lindiel’s home, I came across Bregmund’s father and some of the men he has recruited. They were gathered around a table inside a pub, whispering . . . scheming. I will not argue to stay. We can leave tomorrow if we must, but just give me some time to speak with Hathmund.”

“Of course,” Feredir answered, bringing her hands up and kissing them one at a time. “Why don’t you get dressed and go find your brother. I have kept you locked away all to myself for long enough.” He pulled her up from the bed, embracing her against his body. “Besides, I have you for eternity now.”

They held each other and kissed a moment longer, then Feredir left to find Horphen and Orthorien. Terrwyn slipped on the yellow dress, very simply made with dainty sleeves that came down just below her elbows, cinched at the waist with laces running up the front to her cleavage. The skirt was smooth and just swept the floor as she stood in her bare feet. There were two other dresses, one green and one cream. The green dress was of a fancier design and shape. This one she would save for special occasions or perhaps for meeting Feredir’s mother. The cream-colored dress was the simplest yet, an everyday dress good for doing chores in. The skirt was wide to allow for better movement. Perhaps she could also wear this for travel, because she had no riding outfits. It would have to do for now since there was not much time before their departure from Rohan. She would miss her home, but she no longer felt safe here. It was best to move out of harm’s way and begin a new life somewhere different.


	59. Goodbyes and Well-wishes

Terrwyn took her time walking through Meduseld and taking in all the architecture and the designs that signified a proud people, the Rohirrim. Despite what her brother told her of her half heritage, she felt she would always connect with these brave people of the open plains. This was truly who she was and how she was raised and she would think of herself as one of them above all.

The rich wood, the carved warhorses, the intricate tapestries, it all dated back for hundreds of years. Brave men her ancestors were, seeking new lands after becoming allies of Gondor. The land was barren, swept with disease and slaughter in the early Third Age, but it was salvageable and so it became their home through all their efforts. From the beginning, the people of Rohan prided themselves on their independence. Terrwyn’s life was an example of this, being able to sustain herself as she saw fit, but this part of her life was about to change. Having Feredir meant having a friend, a lover and a partner to share any challenges that arose. There was a certain amount of comfort knowing this and it was the reason she was able to leave Rohan without any regrets.

Terrwyn rounded the corner and entered the King’s golden hall, thinking that it was empty, but she found Eomer sitting on his throne and her brother sitting beside him. They were deep in conversation, speaking in hushed tones, though it sounded urgent. For a brief moment, Terrwyn thought how odd it was that she could hear them at all, as she stood on the opposite end of the long room. Had she always been able to hear so well, or had she absorbed some elvish abilities through her bond with Feredir?

She turned to leave, feeling like an intruder, but Eomer looked up from his throne just in time to catch a glimpse of her red hair trailing out behind her. “Please, Lady Terrwyn, do not rush off. Hathmund and I were just finishing up our business and I’m sure you both have much catching up to do.”

Terrwyn turned back towards Eomer and smiled as she curtsied. “I’m sorry, Sire. I did not mean to interrupt. I thought the hall was empty and I just came to admire its beauty while I still can.”

Eomer gestured for her to come to his throne, standing as was proper when a lady entered a room. Such was the practices of the King of Rohan. Eomer never thought himself above others, but as an equal. He was a marvelous King, tall and handsome with his sun streaked golden hair and robustness. Had history played out properly, Eomer would never have become king. He was the nephew of the former King Théoden, but the King’s only son and heir to his throne had passed. Then, during the battle of Pelennor, Théoden himself lost his life and with his dying breath, he passed that rite on to Eomer. Anyone who had doubts about the Third Marshall of the Mark was quickly reassured by his strong leadership. Eomer took a land on the brink of destruction and desolation and made it one of the most powerful kingdoms, only second to Gondor. He earned the respect of every citizen of the Riddermark.

Terrwyn approached Eomer and Hathmund. Before she could bow to her King, Eomer took her hand and led her to his throne. “Please, have a seat. Spend this time with your brother. We can continue our discussion later.” With that, Eomer exited the hall.

Terrwyn examined Eomer’s chair, its large and substantial build. It would have to be sturdy to support the solid physique of one of the mighty sons of Rohan. Their soldiers were made strong, larger than the average man, as if they were carved from stone and then transformed into flesh.

She looked to her brother and observed him thoroughly. He was thin for his height, but that was to be expected after so many years in confinement. His face though . . . his face still held traces of the boy she grew up with, only now he was mature, handsome. His golden hair just swept the top of his shoulders. His eyes were just as bright as she remembered. Now there were small creases in the outer corners and they were very prominent when he smiled. He had father’s eyes for sure, the shape and the long lashes. In fact, he looked more like their father now than she had ever remembered. Her thoughts caught her off guard for a moment. Their father, she said to herself . . . his father. Her heart sunk.

“Terrwyn, what is this I hear? Are you leaving soon?” Hathmund inquired as he took her hands in his.

His voice brought her back to the present. “Things are a bit dangerous right now. There are still those who disagree with Eomer’s decision and I fear they will seek me out if I stay much longer,” she answered.

“I know, I too have witnessed the stares of certain people.” He was careful about what he said.

“And if by certain people you mean Bregmund’s father--,” she said but was interrupted.

“Bregowine is his name. You should know this now. Terrwyn, you are right to leave. This man loses more of his mind every day. I have heard the whispers of the men he gathers on his side. They mean not to let this rest. He refuses to accept the truth of his deceased son. I fear for your safety too.”

“But I do not want to leave you so soon, Hathmund. We have only just been reunited.” She cupped the side of his face. “Will you come with me? The elves will know where we can go. We can get away from this madness until things settle.”

Hathmund shook his head. “I am afraid I cannot leave Rohan. I have been divulging all the information that I have gathered about the Haradrim over my years in captivity. Eomer will send word to King Elessar in Gondor. They plan on raiding Rhûn and putting an end to the abomination of slavery. I am needed here for now.”

“But what about Bregowine? What if he comes after you too?” she said worriedly.

“He will do no such thing while I am needed by Eomer. Terrwyn, the King plans to give me a title and a place in his court, at least while they seek to strike against the Southrons. I am to become an advisor for anything pertaining to Harad. In this position, I can oversee things and make sure that no others are kidnapped and forced into slavery as I was. This must end. We are entering into an age where Men should respect each other and not use the less fortunate to gain wealth.”

Terrwyn smiled at her brother. She was so very proud of how resilient he was. Lesser men might never recover from years of being held against their will. Hathmund used it to strengthen himself. “You will be a soldier yet, dear brother.”

“And damn proud to serve Eomer King,” he answered.

The siblings spent the rest of their time reminiscing of days long gone. They spoke no more of their harsh ordeals. Enough had been said about that part of their lives. Talking about their parents helped Terrwyn realize that she would never think of the man who raised her as anything less than a father. He had never known she was not his daughter and maybe that was best.

Hathmund eventually got around to questioning her about Feredir. She explained in further detail their relationship and how it developed, how she had always been drawn to him. When she told him that they recently bonded, Hathmund smiled wide and told her he was not surprised. He too had gotten to know the elf better as they journeyed from Rhûn. When he told her that Feredir admitted to him his love for Terrwyn, she blushed. Hathmund laughed and kissed his sister’s forehead, telling her how proud and happy he was that her life was finally her own. So was his for that matter.

When they spoke of parting ways again, tears sprang to her eyes, but Hathmund wiped them away and cupped her face within his hands. “Now, dear sister, no more sadness. Had there not been this gap of years in our lives together, in the natural course of things we would have journeyed away from each other. This is the time of our lives when we are supposed to move on, but at least now we will know where to find each other.”

“I guess you are right,” she said between sobs. “And once we are settled, we can visit.”

“As often as we can spare the time,” he reassured her.

* * *

Morning came much too soon and Terrwyn woke to light kisses upon her face and neck. She cracked her eyes open to see her handsome black haired elf leaning over her, his silver eyes gleaming with new excitement. “Wake up, Naru. Today we start our journey to my begetting place.”

“I am happy to be going,” she said groggily, “but I just wish I had a few more minutes before I must wake.”

“I see your sleep habits are going to remain that of humans,” he teased.

“As long as you keep me up half the night, it will be,” she countered.

“You did not complain last night.”

Terrwyn laughed and reached down, cupping him through his trousers and giving him a light squeeze. “I was taught not to speak with a full mouth.”

Feredir covered her lips with his own, his tongue pushing past and rolling with hers. Instantly, he brought her body to life and she ached for him. Nights with Feredir were wonderful, but to be awakened by him in this way was something much more enticing. Just when she thought he would join her beneath the warm sheets, he abandoned her and grabbed the sheet, flinging it from her body and leaving her lying there in nothing but her nightgown. She gasped but he merely laughed. “Now, up you go and get ready. Orthorien has already prepared our horses. The King has graciously given us enough supplies to get us well on our way and an extra horse to carry them. It will be a long journey and slower than usual. The sooner we start, the sooner we will get there.”

Terrwyn scowled at him for ripping her from her warm and cozy cocoon of blankets and fur throws. “I find your cheerful mood quite irritating.”

“Ah, our first disagreement as a bonded couple, I look forward to having to apologize for my rude behavior later.” He winked and Terrwyn rolled her eyes.

“You are a wicked, wicked elf,” she smiled.

Before long, Terrwyn was up and dressed. Her pack was ready with a few personal items, along with her dresses from Lindiel and her treasured butterfly. Lucky for her, Eomer gave Terrwyn one of Éowyn’s old riding outfits so she would not have to ride in a skirt. The generosity of the King was too much, she had told him, but he would see it done no other way.

Feredir escorted her through the King’s halls and through the wide doors leading out of Meduseld. They descended the stairs and joined Orthorien and Horphen who waited with the horses. She also found Lindiel and Taldred waiting to say goodbye, and with them was Hathmund.

Lindiel took Terrwyn’s hands and squeezed them. “You take care of yourself and come back to see us after the baby arrives.”

“I will, Lindiel. And you give that sweet baby a kiss for me,” Terrwyn smiled. The two women hugged each other, both with tears forming in their eyes.

Lindiel released her friend and Terrwyn turned to Taldred. She embraced him and whispered in his ear. “This was exactly what I wanted for you and exactly what you deserve. You are a most wonderful and loving man and you will make a great father, Taldred.”

He leaned back to see Terrwyn’s face and smiled. “Your happiness was always my fondest wish, and now I have seen it. You and Feredir belong together. Good luck in all you do.”

Lastly, Terrwyn went to her brother and the two wrapped their arms around each other, holding one another tight. “I wish I did not have to go so soon, Hathmund. I feel as if I have searched forever just to let you go again. It was not enough time,” Terrwyn said.

“We will see each other again. We will take this time to rediscover ourselves and our lives,” Hathmund answered.

“Are you sure there was nothing else in Mother’s letter explaining who my real father was?”

“All that the letter held, I have already told you. I don’t think even Mother knew anything about him but for the fact that he was an elf traveling to the Grey Havens. I am sorry there was nothing more and I wish you could have met him, but it seems that he has long sailed over the ocean to his secret lands by now.” Hathmund brought her face up to meet his. “No matter what you know about your heritage now, you are still the same person you have always been. You are brave and loving, independent . . . a true woman of Rohan and you should be proud. You will be able to come home one day. This animosity cannot last forever.”

“I know, Hathmund, it will all work out, but for now I will miss you.” Terrwyn brought him close and held her brother a moment longer. Then she released him and went to Feredir who was standing next to a large brown horse that they would share. The elf lovingly placed his hand at her waist and kissed her cheek.

“Terrwyn,” Hathmund called before she mounted her ride. She turned to him and he continued. “Do you know what ever happened to my elvish knife?”

“I found it at our old home in the Westfold and kept it for many years. But I was stripped of my belongings in Gondor. I had to leave it behind. I do not know what happened to it, nor do I know what happened to the other things that I kept. I hated losing them.”

“No matter then, I was just curious,” Hathmund answered. “Stay safe, dear sister.”

Terrwyn nodded and smiled, then Feredir helped her onto their horse. When she was settled, he leapt upon the horse seated behind her. Orthorien and Horphen were already mounted on their horses with the extra horse between them. They all looked down to their guests one last time, smiled and turned their horses towards the road leading to the gates of Edoras. They left at a slow canter so not to draw too much attention to themselves. 

Terrwyn wrapped her cloak around her tighter, pulling the hood down to hide her face. Most people they passed paid them no attention. The fancier wood homes gave way to smaller huts with women busy scurrying around chasing children or hanging laundry. Seeing them made Terrwyn long for a home of her own and maybe one day a child. That day seemed far off yet. Feredir pulled her tighter against his chest when he heard her sigh and she eased into the feel of his firm grip.

They were almost to the gates when they came upon a small group of men standing off to the side of the road. Immediately, Orthorien signaled to Horphen to stay in the back as he rode up ahead of Feredir and Terrwyn. He sensed trouble and unnoticeably removed his bow from his back, bringing it in front of him and resting it on his lap. This was more of a warning than a threat to anyone that might cause them harm.

Dark eyes peered out from beneath their hoods as they glared at the traveling party. Terrwyn recognized one of them right away, Bregowine, Bregmund’s father. He seemed to be the leader of the group, standing out in front, his steely eyes never leaving her. Something about the way he watched her made her uneasy. She did not trust this man and hoped it would be the last she would see of him. That was when Terrwyn knew it would be a very long time before she would return to Rohan, at least not as long as this man waited for her.

As her horse approached Bregowine, he took a step towards the road. Feredir had been watching him the entire time and quickly pulled a small dagger from his boot. The polished metal reflected the sun and flashed in the man’s eyes, making him squint and look away. The dark elf slid the knife back into its hiding place and gave Bregowine a cold stare. “It would not be wise to make trouble. A threat to her is a threat to us,” he told the man. Bregowine’s lip curled in a sneer, but he did not speak.

At that exact moment, a pair of Rohirrim soldiers were making their way up the street. They had probably just come back from duty and were returning to their homes. Bregowine gave some sort of signal with a nod of his head, and his group of men disbursed. The guards’ attention was never drawn to them. Everything seemed normal and one of the soldier’s nodded to the man. “Good morning, Lord Bregowine,” the tall guard greeted him.

The man smiled and gave the soldier his own greeting as they passed. By now, Terrwyn and the elves were past Bregowine and almost to the gates. Orthorien fell back until he rode next to Feredir. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the suspicious man heading back toward Meduseld, his group of followers tagging along behind him. “I do trust that man,” Orthorien said in a hushed voice to his brother. “I think it is a good thing we left this morning.”

“I agree, brother,” Feredir answered. “I don’t expect we’ll be seeing him again though, not as long as we keep our distance from Edoras.” He leaned towards Terrwyn. “I’m sorry, Naru. I know you wish to see your brother again soon.”

“It is alright,” she said with a brave voice. No longer wanting to hide, she lowered her hood from her head and raised her chin as she sat tall upon her horse. “I will stay away for now, but he will not keep me from my home for good. I have faced the hangman’s noose. This man does not threaten me.”

Orthorien laughed. “Feredir, what have you done to our sweet Terrwyn? She has a new fire in her belly.”

“I have done nothing. She has always been like this. You have just never seen it before. Try being her warden for the day and you will see what I mean. Isn’t that right . . . Lag,” Feredir teased. He was answered with a sharp elbow to his stomach as he doubled over.

Horphen laughed from behind. “Finally, someone to keep him in line other than me. You have your work cut out for you, Terrwyn.”

“Yes well, I have my ways,” Terrwyn said as she patted Feredir on the knee. He sat back up and rubbed his stomach, groaning.

As they passed through the gates of the city, Terrwyn watched as three young women stood by, one with a white rose in her folded hands. They smiled at her as she passed them and the girl with the flower stepped forward. Terrwyn held her hand out, signaling to Feredir to stop, which he did. The young woman handed the rose to Terrwyn.

“Thank you, Lady Terrwyn. You have made life easier for us now.” The woman smiled and backed away to join the others.

Terrwyn seemed confused. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Those two men that accused you of a crime, they have also threatened us. We tried to have them seized, but they are crooked men. Now that they have been exposed for their true iniquity, they are no longer trusted and are watched carefully,” the young woman explained. “It is because you stood up to them that we do not live in fear now. Should they try anything mischievous now, we will be believed and they will be sent to the cells. We just wanted to show our gratitude to you.”

Terrwyn was surprised by this. She smiled to them and sniffed the flower. “Always stay true to yourselves. You are women of Rohan, strong women. Hold you head high and follow your pride. You do not need to be victims.” Terrwyn touched Feredir’s knee, letting him know that they could continue on their way. He clicked his tongue and the horse started walking once more. Terrwyn smiled to herself as they finally passed through the gates. It was good to know that she made a small difference somehow.

When they were outside to the city, Feredir’s body relaxed and he wrapped an arm around Terrwyn’s waist. He nudged his nose against her neck and breathed deep. “How is it you can make me love you more? Just when I think my feelings can soar no higher, you lift my soul to another summit.” He was never prouder of her than he was then after hearing her words of wisdom.

Terrwyn smiled and settled in against his chest. This was what she had always dreamed of, this sense of security and belonging. She was finally free of her past and she could only imagine what her future held.


	60. Along the Way

There were no mishaps so far during their journey. Though they still had a ways to go, there was always the chance of an attack. Spies would still lay hidden upon the roads, especially in these parts. The elves kept aware every moment, even when it seemed they were not. Terrwyn was grateful and even felt a connection to them. Now that she was beginning to accept her half heritage, she could feel that part of her unveiling. Sight, smell and sound were just a few of the things that became more prominent as she observed the lands that they passed.

The days traveling so far were long and dusty as they made their way over the open plains. The sun warmed the lands quite nicely during these days of spring. All around them were signs of new growth. Trees had tiny buds and small clusters of leaves forming on their branches. Wild grass sprouted in patches of fresh green in pastures. Birds returned from their winter homes, still gathered in large flocks, but beginning to pair up to start a new generation. Terrwyn felt a connection to the season as it shifted from a long cold slumber to wakefulness and revival.

As they traveled along to the north, they passed between two very important lands, Fangorn Forest and The Wold. Orthorien halted and the others followed suit. He gazed across the plains to the edge of the ancient forest, breathing in the faint smell of pine. “Have you ever seen one of the Ents, Terrwyn?” he asked.

“No, I have not, but as a child at Helm’s Deep during the war, I gazed out across the fields and saw the new forest. It was such a strange site to see, for naught but a day before, no tree stood in the vast plain. Some of the men who witnessed the march of Ents still tell their stories of how the trees flowed into the land like a tide, consuming the evading orcs who thought they could use it for shelter. They say the screams were ear shattering, a sound they shall never forget. The forest still stands, though no one dares to enter.”

Orthorien listened, but his eyes never left the forest. A peaceful look washed over his face. Terrwyn watched him carefully. “What about you, have you ever witnessed the Ents?”

He shook his head. “No, but it would bring me such pleasurable joy to see one before I part these shores, should I be so lucky.”

“We could have a walk through the forest now, could we not?” she asked innocently, glancing at Feredir sitting behind her on their horse. He started to answer, but Orthorien spoke first.

“It is alright. My curiosity can wait. We need to keep on our way.” He was quite sure of his decision, though it saddened him to be so close and not be able to spend time walking through the ancient forest.

“Perhaps , should you decide to join us for the journey back to Ithilien, we can come back this way,” Horphen added. “I too would very much like to see the great tree herders or to at least walk amongst their home.” Orthorien gave him a curious look and Horphen smiled. “Prince Legolas journeyed through the perilous woods many years ago. He saw no Ents in Fangorn, but he heard their song and they spoke to him. That would be enough for me.”

Orthorien looked at Horphen for a long moment. “Perhaps, my friend,” he replied and the company of travelers were on their way once more.

They crossed the River Limlight and came to the Anduin, which they followed until they found a safe place to cross. Now they went north with open plains on one side and an approaching forest on their left. The vast forest grew on the eastern shore of the Anduin and this time, Horphen drew the company to a halt.

“That, my lady Terrwyn is Lothlorien,” Horphen said.

Terrwyn and the others gazed across the river and saw the small shapes of three golden haired elves standing and watching the travelers as they passed. Orthorien raised his arm and gave a slow exaggerated wave. The elves across the way answered the same and it was established that all were on friendly terms.

“Those are some of the Galadhrim keeping watch at their docks. Actually, I am surprised to see them in plain sight, but the threat of enemies has become less over the recent years,” Horphen said. “Otherwise, you would never have known you were being watched.”

“I did not think any elves remained in Lothlorien after their Lady left,” Terrwyn said curiously.

“The Lord Celeborn remained behind to see over the Golden Woods and to make sure that all their kin left the shores safely,” Horphen answered as they started on their way again.

“You mean she left without her beloved?” Terrwyn asked amazed. “But how could they stand to be separated?”

“Sometimes it is necessary. The Lady Galadriel carried out her task and was called back to the Undying Lands. Now it is her husband’s task to make sure the Noldor leave Middle-earth safely,” Feredir answered.

Terrwyn thought about this. Would there be a day when they too would be separated? She hated the thought of not being with Feredir, but if it were necessary she would have no choice but to stand strong. “Will they find each other again?”

“It is certain that they will once Lord Celeborn takes the last of the ships. I imagine Lady Galadriel will be standing upon the docks when he finally arrives.”

Terrwyn sighed. “It is sad, but at least they will be together again one day.”

* * *

Traveling was beginning to take its toll on Terrwyn. They had left Rohan a few weeks back and their supplies were running low, though the elves hunted for their sustaining meals. It was not food that wore Terrwyn thin, but lack of a comfortable place to lay her head at night and warm water for a bath. So far, it had been cold streams and a cloth that sufficed for bathing. The one small luxury she had was a bar of soap that had been tucked into her pack, probably by one of the maids in Rohan. And though she curled up in Feredir’s arms when they took rest, she missed the feel of a soft mattress beneath her.

So far, they had followed the Anduin, the great forest of Rhovanion to the east and the far off Misty Mountains to the west. Only a few times did they pass another traveler and the elves shared with them any supplies that the stranger was lacking. Eomer had given them plenty and it was custom for elves to help those who needed it. Still, they could only share what was manageable and their supplies were beginning to run low.

Finally, after coming a very long way, they reached the Old Forest Road, a road that cut through Mirkwood. The first thing they came across was an old inn and tavern. It sat just off the road and was located in a very accessible place, close to the Anduin River where supplies could be shipped to them. It seemed like it might have been a very popular stop for many a weary traveler before the dark days. Now it looked old and run down. The wooden building looked a mess from the outside, but it had a roof, food and drink, and that was all they required at this point. The elves looked at the place questioningly, but Terrwyn voiced her opinion, saying she needed at least one night to feel normal and not like a hermit. And so, they made their way into the inn.

Orthorien inquired about a vacant room where Terrwyn could rest. It came as no surprise that there were vacancies. He paid the owner and went off to join the others, who had settled at a table in the tavern. The elves had to admit that it was nice for a change, though living off the land did not bother them as it did Terrwyn.

The rooms for rent were above a spacious bar, stairs leading up located by the front entrance. Feredir took Terrwyn’s pack and followed her. She opened the door and was met with slight disappointment. It was not luxury by any meaning of the word, but there was a mattress and a basin to wash up. Terrwyn was thankful for small necessities and instantly poured the pitcher of water into the white ceramic bowl while Feredir checked the rest of the small room. “Are you sure you want to stay here for the night, Naru?” he asked as he noticed the tattered blanket covering the neatly made bed. At a closer look, he found that the sheets were clean, though not in the best shape.

“It will do,” she commented as she tied her hair back with a leather strap she kept with her belongings and splashed her face with the cool water. It felt good to get the dust from the road off her skin. “I just need one night of comfort, Feredir. You and the others are used to traveling long distances and sleeping beneath the stars. I feel as if I am at my wits ends. I am tired and dirty and I wish to just have one moment alone. You understand don’t you?”

Feredir went to her, pulling her to him and kissing her neck. “I know this has been difficult for you and I wish we could have gone back to Ithilien. We would have been home by now.”

“But you and your brother need to be here now. Your mother is waiting for both of you. We will make it back to Ithilien one day and when we do, we will settle down for a long while.” She kissed him slow and tenderly.

Feredir released her and gazed into her green eyes. “Take your rest now. I will be downstairs with Orthorien and Horphen if you need me.”

Terrwyn smiled and nodded. Feredir captured her lips, kissing her passionately. “And by needing me, I mean anything, Naru . . . anything at all.” An impish grin escaped the corner of his mouth.

“I will. I promise,” she laughed as Feredir left the room to join the others.

* * *

Meanwhile, below in the tavern, Orthorien went to see if he could find out any kind of news as he introduced himself to some of the patrons. Getting information was a tricky business out on the road, but he found it necessary to know what was happening in his surroundings. People went about their own business especially in a place like this. No one asked questions least they want to be labeled as a spy. Still, there were ways of enticing a person to speak freely, usually after a round or two of ale. Orthorien took up a place with some men playing a game of dice in the back of the bar. These kinds of games always intrigued him. He had only recently learned how to play and found it rather enjoyable. He settled in with the robust men, kicked his booted feet up on an extra chair and allowed himself a small reprieve while he fished for information. 

Horphen found something else of great interest in the form of a busty woman with long brown waves that fell enticingly down her shapely back. She was the tavern’s barmaid and she was very beautiful. What a lovely looking young woman such as her was doing in a rundown place like this was a mystery, but he was glad for small miracles. Horphen watched her as she waited on some of the other customers. All eyes were on the brown haired beauty as she dashed from one place to the next, washing mugs or cleaning tables. She seemed to keep things quite orderly about the place.

Feredir came down and joined Horphen, who was keeping a sharp eye on the woman. “Where is Orthorien?” he asked glancing around the bar.

“He is making friends,” Horphen answered. Feredir followed his line of sight.

“Ah, I see what distracts you, friend. Shall I leave you to it?”

Horphen shook his head. “No, the night is still young.”

“Then let me help pass the time,” Feredir said as he waved the beautiful woman over to their table. Just then, they heard a fist being slammed down onto a table. It seemed Orthorien learned the rules of the dice game rather quickly and won the last three rounds. This did not sit well with the men and to make up for their loss, Orthorien bought them all a pint of the house ale with his winnings. All was forgiven and the golden elf had what information he sought. He said good night to the men and joined Feredir and Horphen at their table.

“Making friends I see,” Feredir jested. “What did you find out?”

“It seems the Old Forest Road is our best route. There have been no threatening encounters in a very long while. We can take the road all the way to the eastern edge of the forest and then make our way north if we follow the River Celduin until we are free of the forest. Then we will follow along the eastern edge until we reach our home.”

It seemed they worked out a plan for their travels and now the three elves could relax and enjoy themselves. The barmaid kept their mugs full and kept a watchful eye on the three very handsome Mirkwood elves as the night advanced.

Before long, they were feeling the effects of the strong ale. Orthorien sat back in his chair with his heels resting on the tabletop. Horphen leaned forward with his elbows on the table and his head resting in his hands as he watched the barmaid work. Feredir sat up straight with his arms crossed, eyes half closed as he enjoyed the feel of the ale in his belly.

“So tell me, brother, why you are sitting here with us when you could be upstairs with your beloved?” Orthorien inquired.

“Perhaps they have had their first falling out,” Horphen guessed.

“She is resting is all. She just wanted some time to herself,” Feredir answered defensively.

“Time to herself?” Orthorien boasted. “For weeks we have been traveling and when you can finally be alone she wants time to herself? I think Horphen is right.”

“You see,” started Feredir, pointing a finger at the other two. “You know nothing about women. When they say they need time to themselves, what it really means is that they are busy prepping and primping and waiting for you to come back to them so that they can throw you to the bed and have their way with you.”

As he finished speaking, the barmaid came to their table and collected their empty mugs. Orthorien looked at the busty brunette and smiled. “Maybe you can shed some light on this,” he said as he caressed her arm with his fingers. “When a couple has not had . . . uh . . . relations,” he said carefully, “for a very long time and the lady says she needs time to herself, how should a male take this bit of information?”

The barmaid smiled. “It depends upon the man, or elf in this situation. It seems to me there would be no reason not to take any of you off to be alone with, but if you have been traveling for as long as it seems, then I would say that she means nothing more than what she said. Women need to be alone every once in a while.” She leaned down between Orthorien and Horphen, exposing her cleavage. “But if it were me, I would not leave her alone for long, least she . . . get started on her own, if you know what I mean.” She stood up straight and watched their faces as they thought about what she said. “Now, would you care for another round?”

All three elves nodded silently and watched her hips sway back and forth as she went back to the bar for clean glasses to fill.

“My guess is that she never needs time alone,” Horphen said and Orthorien laughed. Feredir immediately stood up from the table and looked towards the bottom of the stairs.

“And where might you be going, brother?” Orthorien inquired.

“I am turning in for the night. I think Terrwyn has had more than enough alone time,” Feredir answered. He made his way to the stairs and disappeared.

Orthorien decided he needed some air and excused himself too. The ale had done more damage than he cared for. A walk around the inn and the fresh night air would help to clear his cloudy head. Horphen decided to take up residence at the long bar where he could also keep a sharper eye on the lovely maid. She seemed busy at the moment as a new group of men sat down at the far end of the bar. They flirted and she flirted back, but every time she laughed, the woman glanced towards Horphen.

Finally, she came up to the elf and he noticed her stunningly beautiful hazel eyes and comely face. His loins heated as they made an unspoken connection. He would have this beauty tonight and with Feredir and Orthorien gone, now was his chance to capture her. Feredir was no longer a threat, but Orthorien posed as a problem for a young ellon trying to woo a lady. The older elf was very persuasive and when someone caught his eye, there was no stopping him. He was also a free spirit and would easily flip between the sexes, depending on who he thought would satisfy his cravings more. Tonight it seemed to be the barmaid, but Horphen felt he had seen her first and so he started his seductions in order to claim her early in the night.

If Horphen knew anything about barmaids, it was that they always kept their best and most expensive stock beneath the bar. There was of course a reason for this, as only those who could afford such refined liquor could also capture her attention. And the placement of said stock was always conveniently placed where the patron would benefit from her actions of retrieving it.

“It seems your friends have left you. I guess you won’t be needing that next round of ale then,” she said with a warm yet elegant smile.

“The ale was satisfactory, but my taste has suddenly switched for something finer, perhaps a glass of the house wine, if you don’t mind,” Horphen replied with his provocative stare.

This raised her attention and a curious eyebrow. She looked him over once more, noticing his elvish attire, his dark brown hair braided at the sides and lithe form. He seemed legitimate and she leaned down to obtain a bottle of deep red wine. Horphen watched her as her rounded rear stuck up in the air and her cleavage opened to his complete view. Ah yes, just as he thought it would be, stored conveniently beneath the bar. The sultry woman stood back up, bottle in hand and placed it carefully on the bar top. She turned to a shelf behind her, took down a glass and placed it beside the bottle. Her fingers ran suggestively along the neck before she picked it up and poured it. Horphen’s member pulsed as he watched her deliberate movements. So far she had conveyed her interest in him along with her talents and all just by pouring a glass of wine.

Horphen lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip. “This is a very good wine indeed, made even better by the company I keep. Care to join me?” he asked as his eyes traveled along her body.

“I am afraid I must not . . . yet. There is still much work to be done and many people to serve. We are short on help tonight,” she purred.

“Perhaps later then, I never did enjoy drinking alone.” He set his glass down and held a gracious hand out. “I am Horphen.”

Her eyes lit up a bit. “Your name means driven, very appropriate,” she said temptingly. She reached out and gave Horphen her hand. “I am Adela.”

“Hmm, a woman of Bree? I did not know anything so beautiful came from that old town.” Horphen brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, lingering over her knuckles before releasing her. He could sense her body come alive to his touch. “And I see you know some elvish also.” He would have fun seducing this one, he thought.

“Living so close to Mirkwood, I have learned a word or two in Sindarin.” Adela suddenly wished there was more help tonight so that she could slip away for an hour or so. This elf was quite beguiling.

They talked for a while, in between patrons needing this or that. Just when they were about to settle into a more comfortable discussion, no longer feeling like strangers, someone clasped a hand on Horphen’s shoulder.

“I believe I will join my friend here in a glass of wine,” said the familiar, yet arrogant voice. Orthorien was done with his sobering walk and came back to find Horphen seducing the only acquirable beauty in the tavern.

Horphen sighed. Why did he ever think Orthorien would stay away tonight? “Have a seat then,” he said gesturing to the stool next to his. “Adela, perhaps rather a mug for my here . . . friend.” He put emphasis on the last word.

Adela turned to retrieve a mug, but Orthorien stopped her. “He is mistaken, my lady. I would much rather have what he is having. Is that the house best, Horphen?” He was being condescending now.

Horphen glared at the golden elf with a territorial stare, his eyes telling him to look elsewhere for entertainment. Orthorien ignored him as he watched Adela bend down and reach for the bottle of wine, scanning her body and ample bosom. He gave Horphen a challenging look. The game was on to see who would end up with Adela by the end of the evening.

* * *

Meanwhile, Feredir had gone upstairs and stood outside of Terrwyn’s room. He was feeling rather famished, yet it was not food that he needed. The effect of the ale left him feeling warm and Terrwyn’s lingering scent made him body thrum. The combination put him in a mood of impatient longing and lust. He reached out and turned the handle, wanting to silently enter her room and begin consuming her without warning. Unfortunately, the old inn’s squeaky door gave him away.

Terrwyn was sitting on the edge of the bed, her back to the door, brushing her hair and wearing a sheer white nightgown made of a lacy cotton batiste fabric. The short sleeves hung off her shoulders exposing her smooth fair skin. Her long red wavy hair cascaded down her back and looked extremely soft and smooth. When she heard the door creek open, she turned her head and smiled when she saw Feredir leaning against the doorframe, his ankles crossed and arms at his sides. She stood and faced him. With only a few candles to illuminate the small room, she could only see his silhouette, but the rise and fall of his shoulders told her he had hurried up the stairs to get to her. He pushed away from the door and prowled towards her until she could see the dark hunger within his eyes. The flame of the candle next to the bed flickered and his eyes sparkled. Without any spoken words, Feredir enveloped her within his powerful arms and held her tight against the length of his body. His mouth covered her, tongue pushing past her lips and tasting her sweet breath. Then he drew her bottom lip in between his teeth and playfully tugged at the tender flesh.

He picked her up off the floor and she brought her legs up, wrapping them around his slim waist. Feredir took a few steps until he pushed her into the wall. His hips thrust further still until she felt as though he would make the wall collapse behind her. His need was apparent by his bulking cock crushing against her pelvis. Terrwyn looked deep into his silver eyes and gasped when she witnessed the sexual rage within them.

“Feredir, you are drunk,” she said accusingly.

He smiled with a savage grin. “I am not so drunk that I cannot satisfy you. I want you Terrwyn. I want to fuck you and hear you scream my name. And when you think I am done and you cannot possibly handle any more, I will fuck again and take my release.”

His tantalizing words enraptured her and she gave in to his merciless disposition. “Take me, Feredir,” she demanded as her body was already reacting to his promises. She pulled the top of her nightdress down, exposing her breasts. Her arms and legs clamped tight and Feredir released his rigid cock from his leggings. He pushed her white dress further up her thighs and impaled her with one swift movement. Upon feeling him fill her, Terrwyn cried out. He had only just begun to touch her and already she could feel her climax rising.

* * *

Horphen and Orthorien were busy entertaining the barmaid. The two elves did their best to impress Adela with stories of past battles or retracing their heritage. Orthorien always made a point to let her know how much older he was over Horphen, by a thousand years almost, enough time to hone in on his ‘skills’.

Horphen told her about living in Ithilien and being an elvish guardsman there, how much more experienced he was with humans and their uniqueness. All the while, Adela listened and watched the elves try to outdo each other to gain her attention. She was enjoying their bantering and really did not mind at all which one she would end up with, as long as it was one if not both of them.

Suddenly there was a knocking sound coming from the ceiling. Actually, it was more like a loud banging noise. It gradually became louder and faster. One by one, the patrons stopped what they were doing to listen. Moans and panted breaths accompanied the pounding of wood. Orthorien and Horphen stopped their competition as Adela was no longer listening to them. Now she too was looking up at the ceiling, noticing a couple boards rattling together. The moans now turned into screams of passion, a male and a female to be exact. Adela smiled and seemed to wiggle her hips.

“Oh by the gods, Feredir, yes more yes. Oh . . . oh right there!” said a muffled voice. It was followed by a male voice growling in a very sexy and lascivious tone.

“Ooo,” Adela purred. “I haven’t heard that kind of joy in a long time. I agree,” she laughed. “Don’t stop Feredir, whoever you are.” She bit her lip and wiggled her hips again, obviously getting just as excited as the renters upstairs.

Horphen and Orthorien watched the barmaid become aroused, nipples now protruding beneath her tight shirt. “That’s my best friend,” Horphen boasted.

“Oh really?” Adela asked quite interested in the new bit of information.

“Yes, we have been friends for many long years now. I taught him everything he knows,” he said stretching the truth. Feredir needed no teaching. He had always been a natural at anything he did.

Adela smiled at him, suddenly very aware of the Ithilien elf as he puffed out his chest. Then her attention was drawn away by the smooth voice of the other sultry elf as he leaned into her ear.

“Yes, well . . . I am his brother.” He spoke in a whisper, his voice a low rumble that reverberated throughout Adela’s body . There was nothing more to say. Proof of his blood relation to the magnificent beast that was pounding the girl upstairs was enough to gain Adela’s full attention.

“You must have a lot in common then,” she smiled. Her attention was brought back to the ceiling again as the boards creaked and jumped. There was a loud crash and thump, as if the ceiling would collapse onto the patrons below. The screams magnified and turned higher in pitch until there was a long drawn out moan from both parties, followed by silence. The show was over. The couple upstairs was satisfied and half of the people in the tavern stared open mouthed at the ceiling. The rest looked to their partners with devilish grins, searching their pockets for loose bits of change. The rooms would be full tonight.

Horphen watched his tavern beauty slowly forget his existence as she came out from behind the bar and wrapped an eager arm around Orthorien. It was no use. As long as the tall, older, better built elf was around, he would not find a woman to share an evening with. Damn him, the Ithilien elf thought.

Orthorien was leading Adela away towards the stairs. Her pulse raced and her body warmed when she noticed just how tall and magnificent he was. Still, she felt bad about leaving Horphen behind. He had spent most of the night talking with her and she enjoyed his company. He was very sweet and she was sure he was an excellent lover too, but this one was the brother of the other elf upstairs. That alone had to account for something. It was an opportunity too good to pass up.

Adela looked back over her shoulder once more, seeing Horphen sitting at the bar and staring into his half empty glass. A thought came to her, though she doubted the Ithilien elf would agree. He was rather combative towards the Mirkwood elf. She stopped Orthorien and whispered in his ear. The tall elf said something in return and nodded.

“Horphen,” Adela called to him. He turned around, a defeated look on his face. She smiled and flashed her hazel eyes at him. “There is always room for one more.”

Horphen pushed his glass away from the edge of the bar, swiveled on his stool and stood up tall and straight. He wore no smile but rather a contemplative look. He walked up to Orthorien and Adela. The golden elf cocked an eyebrow at his brother’s friend while Adela smiled, hopeful that he would agree.  
The young woman reached out and touched his pouty lips with her finger then drew herself near, capturing his mouth lightly.

“I would hate to leave anyone out,” she whispered onto his lips as her hand reached up and brushed his pointed ear.

Horphen could feel her need and desire. For him, this was a chance to do something he had only dreamed about so far. Then he looked over to Orthorien, not exactly his first choice for this situation. He knew of the older elf’s carnal desires for either sex and it made him uneasy. The Ithilien guard released Adela and stepped up to Orthorien, looking him over with a judgmental eye.

“I have heard stories and I know that you play both sides,” Horphen commented in a serious tone.

Orthorien smiled impishly. “You have heard correctly then.”

“And if I agree to this arrangement, I must set a few rules first, one being that the girl stays between us at all times,” Horphen continued.

Orthorien placed his hand over his heart. “I will stay on my side.”

“Good,” Horphen answered, content for now. He would come up with the rest of the rules on the way upstairs.

“Although,” Orthorien said, drawing the word out and glancing down to the front of Horphen’s trousers. He reached out with his hand as if to lift the other elf’s tunic. Horphen immediately slapped his hand away and Orthorien laughed. “I am only jesting, my friend. I would not do anything that would make you uncomfortable and I promise . . . the girl stays between us.”

Just then, Adela walked up and stood between the two elves, taking each one by their muscular arm. “Is it settled then?” She kissed Orthorien quickly and released him. “Shall we be on our way?” She kissed Horphen, lingering a moment longer upon his full lips. The two elves nodded in a silent agreement and Adela led them up the stairs.

* * *

The next morning, Feredir and Terrwyn woke up sore, stiff and completely sated from their night’s adventures. She turned her head from one side to the other and laughed at their predicament. “We broke the bed.”

Feredir sat up and looked around the room. “And the night stand,” he said.

Terrwyn pushed up onto her elbows. “And the wash basin.” She giggled at the sight of the shattered ceramic pieces scattered across the floor.

Feredir leaned towards her and kissed her lovingly. “And well worth the extra money I will have to give to the innkeeper for all the damage we caused.”

“We?” she said accusingly. “From what I remember, you were the one throwing me around the room and choosing which pieces of furniture to try out for comfort.”

“I can’t help myself, Naru. You drive me to the brink of madness.” He lightly bit her neck and shoulder.

She cocked her head to allow him better access. “Me and a few pints of that wicked ale you drank last night.”

Feredir let her have the last word and shook his head laughing to himself. Then he glanced towards the small window, noticing that the sun had risen a while ago. “We better get up and get dressed.”

“Must we leave so soon?” Terrwyn asked as she stretched her arms, the sheet slipping down and exposing her full breasts. She was deliberately trying to seduce him.

Feredir rolled on top of her, taking each supple breast into his mouth in turn. “I wish we had more time, but I’m afraid we must go. Orthorien and Horphen will already be waiting with the horses.” He took each nipple between his teeth and teased until she moaned.

“That is not fair,” she complained. “You set me alight and now I must get up. You know there are no more inns between here and Mirkwood. This might be our only chance to--.”

Feredir captured her mouth to silence her. “Do not remind me, Naru. I may just have to drag you off into the woods and have my way with you.”

They finished getting ready and packed up their belongings, and then they went down stairs. Feredir found the innkeeper and slipped him a few extra coins along with an apology. As he and Terrwyn were about to leave, Adela the barmaid called to them. “You are welcome back here any time, especially you Feredir.”

He turned and bowed to her, but Terrwyn could not help but wonder just what she meant by that. And how was it the wine wench knew her elf’s name? There was a certain teasing tone to the woman’s voice and Terrwyn did not much like it.

Outside, Orthorien and Horphen stood by the horses, deep in a conversation. Feredir’s elvish ears listened in on what they were saying.

“I had no idea she could bend like that,” Horphen said.

“Yes, she was quite nimble wasn’t she?” Orthorien said in return. “Well, I guess she would have to be in order to satisfy both of us in that position.” He stopped and laughed. “And the look on your face when--.”

Horphen wrinkled his brow. “Did I not tell you to stay on your side of the bed? I swear you did that on purpose. That was no mere brush of a hand.”

Orthorien hung his head. “Truly, I do apologize. I was only trying to heighten your experience.” Then he looked up rolling only his eyes to Horphen. “But you must admit it felt good.”

Horphen dared to let the slightest curl appear in the corner of his mouth. Then he pushed those thoughts aside and looked at Orthorien stern faced. “If you ever say anything to anyone, I will take my blade and personally remove that which makes you an ellon, understood?”

Orthorien bowed hand over heart. “Not a word, I promise.”

Just then, Horphen caught sight of Feredir and Terrwyn out of the corner of his eye. He gained his composure and smiled wide. Orthorien remained his usual cocky self, a mischievous look in his eye. Feredir looked from one elf to the other and shook his head. “You two disgust me.”

Instantly Horphen took the defensive. “What? What have you heard?” He looked at Orthorien. “I thought we had an agreement.”

Orthorien laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “I have said nothing, my friend. I’ve been with you ever since we went to Adela’s room last night.”

Terrwyn gasped and threw her hand over her mouth. Feredir’s look of distaste never faltered as he regarded the two elves before him. One looked completely abashed while the other’s smug face stayed unmoving and both thought they were concealing their mischief. However, Feredir had overheard them. He pointed at Orthorien. “You . . . I would expect this from.” Then he turned to Horphen. “But you?” Feredir was at a loss for words.

Horphen stuttered a moment before he was able to form proper words. “The girl . . . there was a girl.” When Feredir said nothing he continued. “And it was an accident . . . just . . . just a brush . . . of a--.” Horphen stopped speaking. It was not helping matters much. 

Feredir continued to shake his head as he glanced over to Orthorien one more time. “Is nothing sacred to you? Can I not have one thing that you have not tried to infiltrate . . .” He turned to Terrwyn. “Seduce . . .” Then he looked at Horphen. “Fondle?” From behind him, he heard Terrwyn giggle. “And what do you find so funny about this?” he snapped. He was obviously very upset with the situation.

Terrwyn only smiled and touched his shoulder. “Relax, Feredir. They were only having a bit of fun. It’s not like they broke the bed.” She laughed again when she saw Orthorien wink, pleased with her comeback.

Feredir’s eyes swept across all three people. “Am I the only one bothered by this?” A vision of his brother and his best friend lying close together, girl or no girl, flickered in his mind and he mentally shivered with revulsion.

Orthorien merely gave his brother one of his arrogant smiles knowing full well it would upset him further. Horphen wanted to join his friend with his objections, but all he could manage to do was look away embarrassed and mount his horse. Feredir helped Terrwyn onto their horse and mounted behind her. He rode past his brother, giving him a murderous stare and then passed Horphen, who he could not even bring himself to look at.

“There really was a girl,” Horphen said softly as he tried to explain one last time, and one time too many. 

Feredir rolled his eyes and sighed with defeat. “Oh, for Valinor’s sake,” he mumbled as they started on their way, heading east on the Old Forest road.


	61. Coming Home

It had been a very, very long journey from Rohan to Mirkwood, but they were finally approaching the gates to the woodland city of the elves. Feredir explained the history of Mirkwood to Terrwyn, who knew little about it. He told her about the Teleri who originally settled in the vast forest, then known as Eryn Galen, the Greenwood. He told her about Oropher who established a colony in the south and how Sauron eventually chased them to the northern part of the forest, where they lived today. When the King perished in the Last War of the Alliance, his son Thranduil became their new King and still ruled this realm. It was the spreading of evil during the dark days that earned the forest its name of Mirkwood and for a long time this was its name. Many humans still referred to it as such, though soon after the Ring War and the downfall of Sauron, Lady Galadriel destroyed the dark lord’s doings, casting down all his works, cleansing the forest and renaming it Eryn Lasgalen, Wood of Green Leaves. The forest was divided into three sections. The south belonged to Lothlorien and was governed by Lord Celeborn. The north remained Thranduil’s realm and belonged to the wood elves. The land between the two elven realms was given to the Beornings and the Woodsmen. All lived in peace with one another and came to the other’s aid should it be needed. The important thing they all shared was to maintain the beauty and mystery of the land of Rhovanion. 

The three elves’ hearts were racing as they finally stepped onto the path that led to the Great Gates. Beech trees lined either side of the path like giant soldiers welcoming home their troops. Terrwyn heard the sound of rushing water and knew it was the Forest River. Feredir had given her a detailed explanation of this place. A sturdy bridge crossed over the fast flowing river and on the other side was the Gate that led to Thranduil’s palace and the home of the wood elves.

As they got closer, Terrwyn’s heart thrummed with excitement. “Do all of the elves live here?” she asked from behind Feredir. For most of the journey, she rode in front of him, but now she was glad to be sitting behind him, feeling as if she needed to stay hidden.

“Thranduil and his family live here along with the members of the court and other nobles. But there are those who choose to live in the open forest as opposed to under the wooded hill. This is the only way into the city. Once inside, there are passages and doorways that lead to other parts of the woods. It is all well protected and our borders go far.” Feredir felt her stiffen behind him. “You have nothing to fear.”

“I know, but as children growing up in Rohan, we were told many stories of the ruthless King and to look at his home now does not make me think any different. It seems so secluded and secretive,” she answered.

“It is supposed to look that way. You must remember that we lived for many long years surrounded by evil, having to keep all kinds of fell creatures at bay. It is not supposed to look inviting or magnificent like Meduseld or Minas Tirith.”

They approached the bridge and Orthorien went first. He leapt down from his horse and approached two guards standing on either side of the bridge. While he spoke to them, Feredir dismounted and helped Terrwyn down. Horphen did the same and took their packs that contained their personal belongings. Someone would come for the horses and take them to the stables.

Terrwyn tightly wrapped her cloak around her, bringing the hood down low. She was not sure what to think of things just yet. She was an outsider and knew of the King’s dislike of strangers. Her eyes caught movement across the bridge. There were other guards standing in the shadows waiting to speak to the travelers.

Orthorien turned to his companions and waved them over. They all proceeded across the bridge, Terrwyn noticing how wide, and fast moving the river flowed at this part. The land sloped down from here, powering the water to move quickly. It was a rather ingenious design really. There was no other way across but by the bridge. One could not swim or ferry across the dangerous rapids below.

When they crossed, they came to a set of stairs, steep but wide. Orthorien went first with Feredir and Terrwyn behind him. Last was Horphen. It seemed like they were bringing a prisoner to the cells, the way they were lined up. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, they met the gate guards, weapons in hand and held as their sides. Orthorien spoke in Sindarin to the two very tall and dangerous looking guards. Their faces were stern as they looked over Orthorien’s shoulder to the other members of the company. Terrwyn felt Feredir straighten as he lifted his head. Horphen did the same as he stood on the other side of her. She thought it was taking longer than what seemed usual to gain entry into the palace and her nerves rattled. Finally, Orthorien turned and came back to where the others stood.

“They would like to speak to you, Feredir and they ask that you bring Terrwyn with you,” the golden warrior said.

“You are a captain are you not?” Terrwyn said nervously. “Can’t you command them to allow us entry?”

“I am a captain, yes, but I have no authority over those that guard the gates. They are governed by another outfit of the elven army and they only take orders from their commanders.” Orthorien answered.

Feredir took her arm in his and pulled her close. “It is alright, Naru. You are with me.” He whispered into her ear, his warm breath relaxing her a bit. She nodded and allowed him to lead her to the guards. They stood still as stone, their eyes watching every step the couple took as they advanced. Feredir took a step in front of Terrwyn and spoke in his native tongue. The guard on the left answered in short but demanding words and she wished she understood what they were saying. Feredir took a step back and turned to her, seemingly defeated. “They will only speak to you. The rest of us they know and will allow entry.”

Terrwyn took a deep breath and released it with newfound confidence. She lowered her hood and removed her cloak, then adjusted the bodice of her riding outfit. A quick shake of her head was enough to fix her hair. She handed the cloak to Feredir and walked up to the guards, back straight, head held high and a new light in her green eyes. The soldiers regarded her a moment, observing her features and seeing her very long red hair. There was no mistaking her heritage. Elvish father or not, she was Rohirrim first and foremost. 

“I do hope you speak the common language, for I know little Sindarin except for what my company has taught me.” As she spoke, her words were coated with a very heavy Rohirrim accent. Feredir and the others were surprised to hear this. They had never known her to speak this way before.

The guard on the right, who was much taller than Terrwyn, lowered his eyes to meet hers. “Who are you and what business do you have in Eryn Lasgalen?”

“I am Terrwyn, daughter of Rohan and I travel with these elves. They come to see family after a long absence. Feredir is my bond mate,” she said firmly. “I want nothing but to stay with him.”

“Regardless of your binding, you are a stranger to our land and have not sought proper permission from the courts.” The guard was not going to allow her entry.

Feredir went back to them and bowed in proper elvish fashion. “Please, she is my wife. I cannot ask her to stay outside the gates least I stay with her. I will vouch for her, but you need not worry. She poses no threat to the kingdom.”

The guard looked to his companion, who nodded silently. Then he turned his attention back to Feredir. “You must understand that we have been given strict orders for who we allow to pass into the city. We have no qualms with you or the others, but the girl is a stranger. However, since Captain Orthorien accompanies you, we will allow it.”

Orthorien came forward at the mention of his name. “Thank you,” he agreed.

The guard who spoke focused on Feredir a moment. “We apologize, Feredir. We did not intend to refuse you entry to your own home, but you know the rules. Strangers must be looked at closely, especially those that come uninvited.”

Feredir took offence to the elf guard’s statement. “She is hardly a stranger and the fact that she is bound to me should be enough proof that she means no harm. The world is changing and if we as wood elves do not change with it, then we are missing out on a very exciting age.”

“That may be the general feeling in Ithilien, but in Thranduil’s realm not much has changed.” The guards said no more, but stepped aside to allow the travelers entry. Terrwyn avoided any more eye contact with the guards and held Feredir’s arm tightly. As they continued past the gate, she peered into the dark entrance. It looked more like the mouth of a cave instead of a gate. There were no iron bars, no wooden slats, just never ending blackness. They walked through and Terrwyn felt a rush of air as the dark swallowed her and the others. Instantly, there was light, bright torches illuminating an enclosed passageway. She turned back, expecting to see the gate guards or the sunlight, but it was black as pitch, no sign of any of the outside world.

“Where are the doors?” she whispered to Feredir.

“They are enchanted. The darkness is the door, so to speak,” Feredir said nonchalantly, as if it were common information. Terrwyn asked no more questions and stayed close to the others as they walked down the long hallway.

There were many passageways leading off from the main hall. Horphen said they went to other halls that housed rooms for the residents. In some cases, there were stairways leading to higher levels, all safely hidden beneath the large hill. There was plenty of room to accommodate every wood elf in Eryn Lasgalen, though a good portion of them preferred to live outside now that most of the perils of the Third Age had been destroyed. Terrwyn laughed to herself and thought this must be how it felt to live inside an anthill. Even the community seemed well ordered in the same fashion. However, it had worked to the elves’ advantage for thousands of years and it was a system well worth it.

“Does your family live here, Horphen?” Terrwyn asked.

“No, they live outside of the caverns. They always have. I must admit that I too much prefer to be out amongst the trees as opposed to underground. During the attacks from Dol Guldur, my parents came to live here with my sisters. It was difficult for them, but they managed and were happy to give up their quarters for a family that preferred the caverns.”

“I did not know you had sisters,” Terrwyn commented as they walked along the passageways. “That would explain a lot.”

“What do you mean?” Horphen asked.

“Oh, I mean no disrespect. I just think you have a kind spirit and hold women in high regard. I have never heard you say an unkind thing or treat a lady in any other way than the way she should be treated,” Terrwyn explained.

“I suppose you are right. I regard women as things of beauty and grace, but also of holding great power over men.” He laughed aloud. “Well, at least my sister, anyways.”

Orthorien raised an eyebrow as his attention was drawn to Horphen’s conversation. “Do any of them remain unattached?”

“It’s too late, Orthorien. Avorniel is being courted and Seldes is betrothed.”

“And Irneth?” Orthorien interrupted. He had known her better than Horphen’s other sisters. They were close in age and had been more than friends once in the past, a secret they had kept even to this day.

“As I said, it is too late. She knows all about you. It seems your reputation has a slight blemish,” Horphen replied.

Feredir, who walked behind the others, laughed a little too loud at his brother’s expense. Orthorien glared at him then continued in his arrogant tone. “It’s a shame really. I might have been the one ellon that would have allowed them to hold their power over me.”

“It is obvious that Orthorien has no sisters,” Terrwyn countered. “He only has a mind for fighting and lust.”

Orthorien accepted her challenge. “It has worked for me so far. I have received no complaints.”

Feredir leaned into her ear. “You are fighting a losing battle, Naru.”

“I may have lost this round, but I still say that one day, Orthorien, you will meet the woman . . . or man that will finally calm the wild beast within.” She smiled at the golden warrior. “Just wait, it will happen . . . one day.”

“Spoken like a true strong headed elleth,” Horphen boasted.

“I believe that is the fiery Rohirric woman who has just spoken,” Feredir said, stopping her and pulling her to him. He looked deep in her eyes. “And the woman I fell madly in love with.” He lowered his head and crushed his lips upon hers.

Orthorien and Horphen looked at each other, shrugging their shoulders. “There will be no peace in the caves tonight,” Horphen said. Orthorien nodded in agreement.

* * *

They finally came to a junction in the passageway. One way led to the resident’s quarters, one led to Thranduil’s throne room and the third led to the upper level halls. Horphen clasped forearms with Feredir and gave a gentle smile. “I am off to visit with my family. Why don’t you take this time and show Terrwyn around. I’m sure she would like to see our home.”

Feredir bowed his head. “We will get to that. There is much to see, but first Orthorien and I should see our mother. If she gets word that we have arrived and have not met her yet, she will have our heads.”

Horphen laughed. “You better be off then. I will look for you later.” He went off towards the area where the tunnels led out to the woods and the outside colony where he would go to his parents’ home and spend some well-earned rest.

“You’re going to see your mother now?” Terrwyn said with a panicky voice.

Feredir smiled. “Well, yes she will be expecting us and I know she will want to meet you.”

“I want to meet her too, but not right now. You have not seen her in a very long time. This moment should be about you two and your mother.”

“Nonsense,” Feredir countered.

“No, you need to see your mother without any outside complications. Just go to her and be with her. Catch up on days long passed and when you have had your fill, then I will meet her.”

“And where will you go? You do not know your way around the caverns.” Feredir gave her a stern look.

“You can show me to the feasting hall or the kitchens. I would dearly love to have something to eat that has not been cooked on a stick,” she laughed.

“Alright, Naru you will have your way yet again.” Feredir took her by the arm.

“I will check on a few things myself and meet you back here shortly.” Orthorien bowed and went his own way.

Feredir and Terrwyn went through the winding corridors passing many wood elves along the way. Most were polite and bowed their heads respectfully as they passed the couple. Only a few took notice of Terrwyn’s appearance. She stood out quite predominantly with her red hair just as Feredir did with his thick black mane. The way they walked together, arm in arm with a hungry stare between them, turned many heads. Terrwyn was a bit self-conscious and felt out of place, but Feredir was proud to show her on his arm. She was his wife now. She belonged here just as much as he did and no one could change that. Terrwyn felt his confidence and relaxed at his side.

They turned another corner and approached a set of stairs that led to a second level of the caverns that held the feasting halls and meeting rooms, when they were stopped by an elleth, tall and sleek with light brown honey colored hair. She smiled infectiously at Feredir as her brown eyes sparkled with surprise.

“Feredir,” she exclaimed. 

The dark haired elf released Terrwyn and captured the elleth’s outstretched hands. “Irneth, long has it been. What are you doing within the palace?”

“I finished my training and have found employment. I passed Horphen in the halls and he told me you were here.” Irneth turned to Terrwyn giving her a warm smile. “And this must be your lovely new bride.”

“Terrwyn,” Feredir said. “This is Horphen’s youngest sister, Irneth.”

Terrwyn had been questioning silently who she was and was pleased to know it was a family member. “It is so nice to meet you. I just recently learned that Horphen had sisters.”

Irneth rolled her eyes. “That’s my brother, always trying to separate himself from the girls. And I guess he did not tell you that he is the youngest sibling either.”

“Why no.”

Feredir laughed. “He was always teased for being the youngest and the only male.”

“Yes, and we loved having a baby brother to take care of, but I’m afraid Horphen did not think much of it, especially as he got older. Still, he will always be our baby brother,” Irneth went on.

Terrwyn smiled as she thought of Horphen as an elfling having three older sisters fussing over him. “Well, he is a very respectable elf and so you have done your job well.”

Irneth turned to Feredir, her expression turning more motherly. “Now, I believe there is somewhere you should be. Laveth has been waiting a while. Do not make her wait a minute more.” She paused and looked down the long hall, past Feredir’s shoulder. “And where is that brother of yours? Hopefully he will put off visiting his acquaintances until after he sees your mother.”

Feredir blushed slightly. Terrwyn took notice and realized she had never seen this side of him before. It was quite becoming. The more she listened to and watched Irneth, the more she liked her. Anyone who could turn Feredir’s pointed ears pink was someone she could become friends with.

“Orthorien is probably waiting for me,” Feredir answered.

“Well, why don’t you let me take Terrwyn from you, just for a little while? You go on then,” Irneth demanded.

Feredir observed Terrwyn, waiting to see what she would say. They had only just arrived at the palace and he worried she would not be comfortable. Terrwyn smiled and kissed his cheek. It was true that she was very nervous with her new accommodations. The caverns were a very overwhelming place for someone who had never seen them before, but she felt quite safe and welcomed with Irneth.

“I will be fine, my love. You go on and see your mother. I will be here when you get back, if Irneth does not mind the company.”

“Of course not,” Irneth said joyfully. “I look forward to getting to know you and I cannot wait to hear how you and Feredir met.”

Feredir gave Irneth a warning look. “Do not divulge too much information or Irneth may use it against me someday.”

“It’s the only way to keep you in line sometimes,” Irneth countered.

Feredir pulled Terrwyn to him and kissed her slow and passionately upon her lips. “I will be back soon.”

“Don’t worry hervenn. I will be fine until you return.” Terrwyn reached for his hair, combing her fingers through it. She smiled as she looked into his silver eyes and then he was off.

Irneth took Terrwyn’s arm and pulled her close in a sisterly fashion. “You must be starving after such a long journey from Rohan. Come along and I’ll let you sample some of Eryn Lasgalen’s finest treats. One of our specialties is our sweet rolls.”

“It sounds delicious. I’ve had my share of wild game and elven way bread to last a lifetime. Something sweet would suit me just fine.” Terrwyn let Irneth lead her upstairs to the feasting hall. It was nice to be in the company of another female for once and the two would have plenty to talk about.


	62. Silver Silk

Feredir and Orthorien stood outside the door to one of the courts, the room where their mother, Laveth worked. Before they even entered, they were surprised to hear her speaking in a raised tone. They had never heard her address someone, other than them as elflings, with such authority.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Feredir questioned in a whisper. The hall of courts was a passageway that branched off from Thranduil’s throne room. There were many rooms here for all the different court advisors. This one happened to belong to the trade negotiators and it seemed their mother was reprimanding someone for not doing a proper job. The brothers stood just outside of the open door and listened.

“The agreement was for ten crates . . . ten not seven,” Laveth said in a stern voice.

“And that is what I told him, Lady Laveth, but he informed me that this was all he could manage right now.” The voice was that of a young ellon, probably just learning the ways of a trade delegate.

“Now let me get this straight. We agreed upon ten, but because he could not manage to deliver the full amount, we should just pat him on the back and tell him not to worry about it. Is this what you’re telling me?” Laveth spoke in a very calm manner.

The youth said nothing, but sat still as a stone with his eyes wide like a frightened doe. Whenever his mentor’s tone was this pacifying, it usually meant a harsh reprimand was not far away. This was not going to turn out well he thought as he braced himself.

“And I suppose if I let every deal fall short, that would be alright also,” Laveth continued. She moved to the front of his desk, her palms firmly planted on the smooth wooden top, and leaned towards the young ellon sitting on the opposite side. “You will send him correspondence telling him to deliver the rest of our trade and that we should receive it within the next few days or he will have an array of fully armed wood elves knocking on his front door.” Laveth shook her head. “Honestly, if this is how you expect to do business then I suggest you either grow a bigger set of balls or find work in the kitchens. You have to be tough with these men or they will cheat you. They will always try to short you the amount you agreed upon. Sometimes threats are necessary. Is this understood?”

The youthful ellon merely nodded as Laveth taught him an important lesson in trade negotiating. He was relieved, the punishment not being as arduous as he expected, at least this time anyways. Then he caught movement in the doorway and smiled as he watched Feredir and Orthorien enter the office. He didn’t know if he was glad to see the brothers or glad for the interruption. Either way it was a welcomed distraction. “Lady Laveth,” he said and gestured towards the door.

Laveth turned to see a most welcomed site. There were her two sons, statuesque, athletic build, beautiful, the epitome of a wood elf. They stood shoulder to shoulder, gold and black, both very handsome, one a polished warrior and the other more rugged as the half man he was. She turned back to her understudy and nodded. “You may go, but fix this before I fill out my reports.”

The youth nodded quickly, glad for the diversion and hurried from the room. As he passed the brothers, he stopped and smiled giving a slight welcoming bow. “It is good to see you both back in Eryn Lasgalen.” He slipped past them and left the room.

Orthorien cocked an eyebrow as he addressed his mother. “A bigger set of balls? I have never heard you use such vulgarity before, Mother.”

“Well, you’ve never had to train a negotiator before. Besides, it’s something I heard your father say many times when talking about his troops. I got my point across, didn’t I?” Her face softened as she outstretched her arms, her mood changing immediately.

Orthorien and Feredir smiled as Laveth rushed to them. “Oh, my sons have returned,” she sang and then hugged each one. She took a step back to look them over. “Orthorien, I was beginning to worry. You sent no word. You should know better.” Then she looked at Feredir. “And you, have you been so busy in Ithilien that you cannot send correspondence? I thought I raised both of you better than that.” She smiled again and hugged them. “I am so glad you are here, both of you.”

“We have missed you too, Mother,” they said in unison.

Laveth released her sons and took a few steps back, looking them over very carefully. She eyed them, one and then the other. Feredir and Orthorien could not stifle a quiet laugh as they looked at each other. Then Laveth smiled wide as she made her realization. “You have reconciled haven’t you? Oh, I knew this day would come. You could not have given me a better gift than this.”

“You are correct, Mother,” Feredir said. “Orthorien and I have laid everything out and dealt with our pasts. I think we have come to an accord.”

“I agree,” Orthorien spoke up. “We have made our peace.”

Laveth was beside herself with joy. The one thing she wanted above all before she sailed from Middle-earth was to see her two sons regarding each other as equals. The only thing she wanted more was to see them both settled. Again she regarded them carefully starting with Orthorien.

“How I wish you would find someone, Orthorien. You know that most who sail to Valinor have already committed and are either leaving together or joining their mate once they reach the Undying Lands,” Laveth said disappointedly.

“I know you would rather see me settled, but I am truly happy with things the way they are. Do not worry for me, Mother. If it is meant to happen it will, but I am not going to force it to happen.” Orthorien answered respectfully, hoping to ease her mind. He understood just how much she wanted to see her sons bonded before she sailed.

Laveth kissed Orthorien’s cheek and straightened the front of his tunic, patting it when she was done. “You have always followed your own path. You are of a strong will just like your father. I should know better than to worry.”

Next, she turned her attention to Feredir, looking him over and bringing her attention to his eyes. “There is something different and it’s not just this new life you have made for yourself in Ithilien,” she said curiously.

Feredir dropped his sight to the floor as a slight smile curled the corners of his mouth. Then he looked to Orthorien, signaling for him to go and let him have a moment alone with Laveth.

Orthorien nodded and leaned towards his mother, kissing her cheek. “I believe I will take my leave for now.” He turned to the door, patting Feredir on the shoulder before he left.

Laveth smiled, her eyes lighting up with delight. “So, who is she?”

“Why is it you have always been so intuitive?” Feredir teased.

“You have a look in your eyes that I have not seen since you met your father. It was the only time I saw that spark . . . until now.”

“Well, you are right. I have met someone.” Feredir paused.

“And she is human, isn’t she?”

“She is Rohirrim, but--.”

Laveth interrupted as if she had not heard him answer. “I knew deep within my heart that you would choose a human woman.” She spoke not with disappointment, but with relief in finally having an answer to her question. Laveth reached out and touched the side of her youngest son’s face. “You have your father’s eyes and you have his warmth and caring. This is all I ever wanted for you, to find love everlasting.”

Feredir covered his mother’s hand with his, lowering it and holding it within his grasp. “Did you love him?” he asked softly. As Feredir grew, his mother did not speak often of his father. Only when she looked at her son and recognized something familiar, did she talk about Callo. She looked at him with that same gaze now.

“No one has ever asked me this before,” she answered. Laveth looked down at their joined hands, noticing the rough callouses on his palms from years of fighting. “I did not go looking for this, you know. This was my first real experience as a new negotiator and my mind was on my work. Callo took an interest to me right away. It’s difficult to admit, but I used that fact to my advantage. Securing a trade for his rare silk was the only thing on my mind.” Laveth smiled as she remembered and laughed to herself. “I think I was the one being taken advantage of. Callo knew my intentions were only for completing my task.”

“So, I was only part of the bargain,” Feredir whispered disappointedly.

Laveth looked up into her son’s eyes. “No Feredir, that is the furthest thing from the truth. I did not see Callo as anything but a quest, an associate. He, however, was smitten upon our first meeting. I felt it, but chose to ignore it. I had to. I was bound to Alagon and despite our differences at the time, I loved him with all my heart. An elf can only love once, they say and this is true, but I was not prepared to find someone who would fill that empty space left in my soul. Callo saw that weakness. It was the only chance he had of revealing himself to me and he touched on it when we were alone one evening. He saw the longing and helped me to open up to him. I felt very comfortable around him. This trust was something I had not experienced with anyone but Orthorien’s father.” Laveth released Feredir’s hands and turned to her desk. She ran a finger along the dark grain as she walked around to the side. Keeping her attention focused on the desk, she continued.

“Alagon and I loved each other very much, but there was one thing I wanted that he would not give me. I wanted another child. Please do not misunderstand me. I love Orthorien and I am so proud of the ellon he has become, but . . .” She paused to find the right words. “Orthorien was his father’s son first. Alagon was a driven warrior and what he wanted more was for his son to have those same qualities. He did a fine job raising your brother, but often those goals and milestones did not include my teachings. Before I knew it, Orthorien had reached his majority and then some. I was left with this small emptiness in my soul, one that I had repeatedly asked Alagon to fulfill. The times were dark and dangerous then. He could not see a reason to bring a new life into the world when it was full of such uncertainty. So, I let Alagon have the final decision, but I would not sit by waiting and worrying when they were fighting at the borders. Thus, I found employment in King Thranduil’s court. Eventually that led me to Gondor where I met Callo. For a brief time, I lived in someone else’s eyes. I felt his heart and it filled the empty space in mine. And I remember the exact moment this took place, for it was the moment you were conceived.” Laveth opened a drawer to her desk and pulled something out, which she held in her closed hand. She brought it up to her chest, against her heart and continued. “So your answer is yes, Feredir. I did love your father if only for a brief period of time.”

Feredir gave his mother a sincere smile. “I should never have doubted you, Mother, but I am glad to hear you say these words.”

Laveth left her desk and went back to her son. “And what about you? Does this Rohirrim woman fill every last place in your soul?”

“Completely,” he answered.

Laveth kissed her son’s cheek, then handed him the treasure she held in her hand. Feredir looked down to find a small ribbon of silver silk. His mother explained. “The morning after your father and I were . . . together, I awoke to find him sitting at his loom. He was deep into his work and I did not want to disturb him. I watched how quickly he spun this silk, how carefully he mastered his craft. Callo took great pride in his creations. He made me this ribbon as I watched and when he was done, he apologized for it being such a small thing, but there was not enough time for him to make anything else. He said he would dye it to match any color I so desired, but I told him to leave it in it’s pure form, for it matched the color of his eyes and every time I looked at it, I would see him.” She took the ribbon and tied it around Feredir’s wrist. “The day you were born I put this ribbon away for safe keeping. I no longer needed to look at it to remind me of your father. I had you. Now I want you to keep this small token and remember that it was made from love, just as you were, my son.”

Feredir was glad to have something else of his father’s to keep with him. Ever since being captured in Rhûn and having the honorary marking singed from his skin, he felt he had lost the only thing that connected him to the man who gave him life. This small token was made by Callo’s own hands and Feredir would treasure it always.

“So come now, tell me all about this new lady in your life. She must be very special to have captured such a stubborn ellon,” Laveth said, interrupting Feredir’s thoughts.

“It was not easy,” he smiled. “. . . for either of us. We did not exactly see eye to eye upon our first meeting. In fact it was quite the opposite.” From here, Feredir told his mother about Terrwyn’s story of where she came from and how she came to Ithilien. He left nothing out. Laveth needed to know as much as he did about Terrwyn and her troubles and triumphs. He left out a few details, mainly his capture in Rhûn. There were some things his mother did not need to fret over. What’s done was done and he survived. However, Feredir did tell her about finding Mazzin, who turned out to be Terrwyn’s lost brother, which led to him to the part of his story he had not had a chance to tell Laveth yet, that Terrwyn was fathered by an elf.

Laveth was stunned to say the least. “But this information is so new to her,” she said with concern. “Is she not confused . . . frightened even?”

“She was in deep dismay at first. Not even I could comfort her and I’m not so sure she has come to terms with it yet. I fear she is ignoring it all. I do not know what this means for her.”

“I wish we knew who this elf was, but as you said, he sailed before Terrwyn was born.” Laveth led Feredir to a small table with two chairs, probably where she took her tea during the day. “Terrwyn was born to a human mother which means she will naturally favor those traits, but she has elvish blood and will exhibit some of our qualities also. Had she known from the beginning of her half-heritage, she could have nurtured both. I’m afraid that being raised as wholly human, she might never fully understand her elvishness.”

“She has taught me about being human and now I will teach her about the elves,” Feredir stated proudly.

Laveth smiled. “She is very lucky to have you. I can see how you both need one another. Nothing could make me happier, Feredir.” She paused and gave him a sheepish smile. “Except to know that you have--.” She stopped short of finishing her sentence as she watched her son slowly nod his head.

“We are bound. That was what I wanted to tell you next.”

Tears came to Laveth’s eyes. “Ai, I knew it or at least I had a feeling it was so,” she sang.

“We have not had a proper ceremony though. Now that I am home I thought that maybe you could--.” He was interrupted by his mother pulling him into her arms.

“Of course we will have a ceremony. As a matter of fact, I will talk to the King and ask if we can have it in the palace. Everyone will come. There will be beautiful flowers all around and food and drink will be plentiful. Only the best for my son and his new bride. Oh and I know just who to make trades with for the best . . .” Laveth lost herself in the moment as she envisioned it all, the planning already well underway as she rambled on.

Feredir called to her twice before she stopped talking and turned to him. “Mother, I do not want all this attention. I do not think Terrwyn will either. I would rather just have a small ceremony with our close friends and family. Those are the only people that matter to us.”

Laveth sighed as the disappointment of a celebration of grand scale slipped through her fingers, but she would not force anything upon Feredir that he did not want. “Are you sure Terrwyn would not like this?”

Feredir went to his mother and took her hands. “I am quite sure. I do not mean to ruin this for you, but we prefer a quiet and simple ceremony. I think we have both had enough excitement to last us the rest of our days.”

Just then, Orthorien knocked and entered the office. Feredir looked over his shoulder and smiled when he saw his brother. “Here is who you should save the grand affair for,” he teased.

Orthorien creased his brow, looking from his mother to Feredir with curiosity. “What affair? What are you planning?”

Laveth laughed. “Now that will definitely be a celebration worth having.”

Still confused Orthorien crossed his arms and took a stance. “A celebration for what?” he said with an accusatory tone.

Feredir walked to his brother and slapped him rather hard on the back. “I suggest you plan on marrying after Mother sails or you will be up to your elbows in yellow and white flowers,” Feredir whispered.

* * *

Terrwyn and Irneth became better acquainted over a delicious home cooked meal of quail and roasted vegetables. Irneth enjoyed Terrwyn’s company and told her stories of Horphen and Feredir when they were just elflings. The two new friends laughed until their sides ached and Terrwyn stored away some of the new information to use to her advantage at a later time.

“They really were quite a pair weren’t they?” Terrwyn commented at the finish of yet another story.

“They were inseparable from the moment they first met. I was glad to see their friendship blossom as it did. As a youth, the others tried Feredir harshly, but Horphen was ever faithful. The day Feredir decided to train for our army Horphen was right there volunteering with him. In a way, they were brothers more so than Feredir and Orthorien.”

“I have seen that bond between them,” Terrwyn admitted. “Your brother is very sweet and a good man. I am surprised he has not found someone yet.”

Irneth laughed. “Oh, he is young yet and has much more to experience before he will be giving his heart away, but it will happen so long as his sisters all agree.” The elleth stopped to wave over a servant carrying a flask of wine. The pretty young maiden filled their glasses and floated off to the next table. Terrwyn watched her a moment and realized that her dream of finally being amongst the wood elves had come true. Her past was behind her now. The cocoon was splitting and her wings were emerging. Soon, Terrwyn would come full circle as her new life began. She sighed and a little sparkle danced in the corner of her eye.

Irneth noticed the look of contentment and felt a real connection with Terrwyn. “Now, what of you and Feredir? I’m afraid I have dominated our conversation and I still do not know anything about you. Tell me how you met?”

“Oh, it is a long story and there are details that I do not feel I can speak of just yet, but I will tell you this much. The day Feredir and I met I had never seen such a pompous, arrogant, selfish person in all my young life.” Terrwyn stopped to laugh.

“So it was love at first sight then,” Irneth said jokingly. “That sounds just like the Feredir I have always known, always too proud.”

Terrwyn went on telling Irneth about her time in Ithilien, always skirting around the real reason she was there. Telling someone she was accused and acquitted of murder was not exactly the way she wanted to start a conversation. It would all come out eventually, but for now, Terrwyn was enjoying the comfort of getting to know someone new without her tragic past being a part of it.

As she spoke, she noticed an ellon sitting across the dining hall who kept stealing glances at her. Finally, she was too distracted to continue with her story and interrupted herself. “Tell me Irneth, who is that elf across the way? He has been watching us ever since he sat down.”

Irneth started to turn but Terrwyn stopped her. “Don’t look now or he will know we are talking about him.”

Irneth looked around and nudged a cloth napkin until it fell to the floor. Then as she bent down to retrieve it, she took the opportunity to glance at the ellon Terrwyn inquired about. She picked up the napkin, shaking it out and placing it properly on her lap before turning to Terrwyn. “That would be Remlas. He is one of the healers here in the palace, one of the head healers to be precise. He is a very quiet ellon, has kept to himself for many years. He lost his wife some time ago during one of the spider attacks. It was a devastating battle. Many good residents perished. Remlas put aside healing for a long time afterwards. His grief over the loss of his wife almost took his own. His only option was to sail and we thought he would take the next scheduled ship at the time, but he came back to Mirkwood after a long absence. He never told anyone the reason why he stayed and has kept to himself ever since. He is one of Thranduil’s most trusted healers and cared for our Prince many times during his youth.” Irneth paused to laugh. “Even elves fall from trees from time to time.”

“Lord Legolas is so graceful, I find it hard to believe there was ever a time he was not, but I supposed he was not so much like that in his youth,” Terrwyn responded.

“Oh, so you have met Prince Legolas,” Irneth said surprised.

“I first met him when I was selling flowers on the streets of Minas Tirith. I had an accident with a runaway horse and cart. Legolas sat with me in the healing house until I was better.” Terrwyn stopped and looked down to her lap. “That seems like such a long time ago. My life was much different then, so many difficulties and unknowns.” Her mind began to drift off to that distant time. When Terrwyn noticed Irneth looking at her questioningly, she shook the moment from her mind and smiled, changing the subject abruptly. “So he is a healer you say? I was for the time I lived in Ithilien. Well, I was in training for healing. Master Curuven and his wife Limil took me into their home and taught me much. I find that I greatly enjoy it.”

“Curuven and Limil, now there are two names I have not heard in a very long time,” Irneth commented.

“So you know of them?” Terrwyn asked.

“Master Curuven and his wife helped deliver all of us. Horphen and Feredir were the last elflings they helped to bring into the world before they decided to join the colony in Ithilien.” Irneth stopped a moment and regarded Terrwyn with a raised eyebrow. “My, it seems you know quite a few of our kin, the Prince and the Master Healer,” she said curiously.

“I was very fortunate, I guess you could say.”

Irneth could see Terrwyn was not yet willing to divulge any more information. She sat back in her chair and glanced over her shoulder to see Remlas still sitting alone at his table when an idea came to her. “How long will you be staying in Eryn Lasgalen, Terrwyn?”

“I am not sure. Feredir is here to see that his mother sets sail safely, but I do not know how long that will be,” Terrwyn answered.

“I’m afraid no one but Laveth will know when that time comes. My guess is that you will be with us for a while and if that is the case, then we better find something for you to do during your stay. You say healing interests you?” Irneth inquired.

“Very much so. Master Curuven taught me much, but I know there is still more to learn,” Terrwyn said.

“What would you think about working with Remlas?” Irneth said excitedly.

Terrwyn folded her hands and placed them in her lap. “Oh, I’m not sure. You said he has not socialized with anyone for many years. What makes you think he would want anything to do with a stranger?”

“You have a certain energy about you, Terrwyn. I feel it and I think all the other elves you have met feel it too. Maybe you are just what Master Remlas needs now.” Both women looked towards the table where the healer was sitting only to find that he had left. “Let me talk to him. I think it’s time he had an apprentice.”


	63. Dressmakers and Goldsmiths

After a nice warm bath and a good night’s sleep, Feredir took Terrwyn to meet his mother. The young Rohirrim woman had been a bit nervous, but Laveth took her in her arms as if she was her own daughter and all fears subsided. Feredir spent part of the day with them making sure they were both comfortable in each other’s presence. As soon as the conversation turned to party planning, he graciously excused himself and went to find Horphen. It was not difficult to do. The elf was either in the dining hall gorging himself on sweet rolls, or seeking out some of the fine young maidens he liked to keep waiting for him. Feredir found him doing both in the dining hall where he was feeding a sweet roll to a lovely young elleth who seemed smitten with the brown haired warrior. Feredir watched Horphen as he tantalized the unsuspecting maiden. The roll had left a bit of honey on the corner of her mouth. Horphen pointed it out and acted as if she did not get it all. “May I?” Horphen said, Feredir reading his lips at a distance. Then his best friend leaned in, kissing the honey from her mouth and causing her left foot to lift slightly off the ground. Feredir smiled and shook his head when Horphen looked over and saw the black haired ellon waiting to speak with him.

“Perhaps we will run into each other again later this evening?” Horphen whispered in her ear.

The elleth giggled and quickly kissed his cheek before hurrying off to tend to some duty she was late for. Horphen crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the stone column next to him as he watched her hips sway while walking toward the kitchens. Feredir came up next to him and joined his friend, curiosity getting the better of him. Again, he laughed to himself and shook his head. “You have a girl every place don’t you?” Feredir teased.

“Ai my friend, it is good to be home,” Horphen sighed.

“She is a little young don’t you think?”

“She was the last time I saw her, but she has recently reached her majority. She is fair game now,” Horphen laughed.

“One of these days this behavior will catch up to you. Some elleth will capture you heart and you will find that you cannot let her run away.”

Horphen unfolded his arms and stood straight. “And until that day comes, I will have my sweet rolls,” he joked, picking up another treat from the silver tray and stuffing it into his mouth. “I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you would be off somewhere with Terrwyn.”

“I took her to see my mother this morning. They seem to get along quite well,” Feredir indicated. “I thought they might need some time together to get better acquainted.”

“And you left Terrwyn alone with her?” Horphen said surprised.

Feredir regarded him questioningly. “And why not? You sound as if my mother is some sort of tyrant.”

“All I am saying is . . . I remember the time when I took you out hunting and we decided to make camp instead of coming home like I promised her I would. Laveth would like to have had my head on a tray,” Horphen said remembering their younger days.

Feredir laughed. “I remember. It was a long time before she trusted your word again.” Feredir cupped his hand on Horphen’s shoulder. “Well, I am not worried about them. Actually, they will be busy for a while as women often are when they are planning a celebration.”

“A wedding ceremony?” Horphen asked excitedly. He knew that this sort of celebration meant a feast of food, drink and plenty of unattached ellith.

“Yes of course, what other kind would it be? However, before you get your hopes too high, you should know that this will only be for friends and family.” Feredir shoved his best friend in a playful manner towards the kitchen doors. “Perhaps you better ask that maiden to join you since there won’t be any to choose from.”

Horphen feigned discontent. “You make it sound as if I am some sort of deviant.”

Feredir laughed. “If the boot fits . . .”

Horphen pushed Feredir rather hard in the chest and the two elves pretended to rough each other up while they joked. Then the elleth Horphen had been talking with emerged from the kitchen and the brown haired elf stopped his roughhousing immediately. He straightened his tunic and captured her with his sultry eyes. “I believe I will ask her to accompany me to your feast.” Not wasting another minute, Horphen strode over to the lovely youth.

* * *

Meanwhile, Terrwyn and Laveth were enjoying each other’s company over a relaxing tea, a combination of jasmine and lavender. The conversation had gone quite smoothly, but now there was a moment of silence between them as Laveth was about to change the subject. “I must say, Terrwyn I was quite surprised to hear your story.”

Terrwyn felt herself tense slightly. They had talked about many things, Feredir being the main subject for most of the conversation. Now was the first time his mother was bringing up her rough past. “I wish none of it had happened, but had my path not led me this way, I may never have met your son. I truly believe everything happens for good reason.”

Laveth smiled “I suppose it does, though this path was a regrettable one.” There was an air of doubt in her tone. “I apologize, my dear. I do not mean to bring this up again, but this is my son whose heart you have captured and he is very important to me. I’ll admit, when he told me of you past I was none too happy. These were very serious accusations put upon you and I could not understand why he would allow himself to become involved with a criminal. I’m sorry, but this was my first impression. However, he explained in full and in detail every part of your story.”

“If there was something I could have done not to have had to live through those horrible days, I would have. My actions were in self-defense, as I hope you understand now. The visions and the memories of that time will never leave me and I must live with that,” Terrwyn admitted.

Laveth captured Terrwyn, her eyes steely blue and challenging. She was not through getting her point across just yet. Terrwyn did not flinch, but instead lifted her head and met Laveth’s summons for a final test of her sincerity. “He told me about the day he arrived in Rohan and found you at the gallows with the hangman’s noose about your neck. I saw that vision within his eyes. I felt the ghostly pain of his memory. Do you realize how close to death you both were? Do you understand that had your execution taken place, it would have meant my sons fading from this world? Even though you were not bound at the time, his love for you was so strong that he could not have endured without you. Love is never something that the elves take lightly.”

Terrwyn’s own memories of that moment came rushing back like a storm on the sea. “I know this Laveth and though the best thing in my life was to have Feredir’s love, it was also my bane. I would rather have been chained, left to rot and to ruin by the fell beasts of Mordor than to have Feredir suffer over my death. I saw the fading in his eyes for one brief moment as he realized that I was finally free. That alone was worse than any torture I could receive from my punishers. I never want to see that again. I know how important Feredir is to you, for I also feel that same need to love him and keep him safe.”

The two women sat unmoving, regarding each other with a new understanding. A connection formed between them and Feredir was the center of this melding of spirits. Laveth’s face softened as she came to accept Terrwyn into her family. “I see the pain you have had to endure and your sincerity and love for Feredir shines above all. I have my answer.” She smiled, then removed herself from the couch and went to a shelf that held books and other small trinkets. Among the items was a wooden box. She took it down from the shelf and looked at it longingly. She swiped her right hand across the top to remove a very thin layer of dust that had collected since the last time she cleaned. Laveth’s job was very demanding at times and housework always suffered during those busy days. As she walked back to where Terrwyn sat, a slight smile of a memory from long ago appeared upon her lips. She sat next to the young Rohirrim woman settling the wooden box in her lap.

“I think you are very worthy of my son. He needs someone as strong if not stronger than him. Both of you have suffered many difficulties in your lives and the fact that you have found each other proves to me that this union was meant to be.” She cocked an eyebrow towards Terrwyn as she delivered another slight reprimand. “I would like to have seen a proper elvish courtship and betrothal.” Laveth’s face lightened once more, satisfied that the young woman was aware of her expectations for elvish tradition. “But I understand the circumstances at the time. However, now that you are here, I will see that our customs followed from here on out.” She paused and looked at Terrwyn. “Do you know anything of elvish marriage?”

“I’m afraid I do not know much. I know that we are bound but nothing more,” Terrwyn answered honestly.

“Well, in the beginning, the couple would exchange rings, silver ones. They are worn during the betrothal period.” Laveth lifted the lip of the wooden box and revealed two simple silver rings. There were no jewels, no markings of any kind; just two smooth silver perfect rings. “These were mine and Alagon’s rings. I still remember the day we exchanged them. Ai, he was such a young and handsome ellon. Many young maidens would have liked to have caught his attention.” She smiled and laughed under her breath. “I made a few enemies after word spread of our engagement. You would have thought he was a prince the way some fell over themselves just to get Alagon to notice them. I noticed him, but I chose not to pursue him. I think that’s what drew him to me.”

Laveth handed the box to Terrwyn who admired them graciously. “They are very beautiful, something to be treasured I’m sure.”

“Take them to Feredir and give them to each other. You should have them now. You will wear them until the ceremony, at which time you will exchange them for gold rings,” Laveth informed her.

“Will you tell me more about the wedding ceremony? I want to do everything proper.” Terrwyn was quite enthusiastic about the upcoming event.

Laveth pulled Terrwyn to her for an unexpected hug. “Of course I will, dear. This should be a day that neither of you will ever forget. Now, we have much to do. The first thing is to get you fitted for a dress. Do you have any plans for today?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Wonderful,” Laveth cried. “I know just the elf to go to on such short notice.”

Soon the two were on their way to a friend of Laveth’s, one of Eryn Lasgalen’s best dressmakers.

* * *

Horphen emerged from the kitchens with a satisfied smile and found that Feredir was still in the hall. He was sitting on top of a table, his feet on the seat of a chair and eating an apple. Horphen approached his friend. “I’m surprised to see you are still here.”

“Did you secure an accompaniment for the celebration?” asked Feredir, a crooked smile upon his lips as an eyebrow rose in curiosity while he took another bite of the sweet fruit.

“I have,” answered Horphen proudly.

“Good, then you can help me with something.” Feredir leapt down from the table with the stealth of a feline and roughly threw an arm around Horphen’s neck, apple still in hand.

“The last time you behaved like this and asked me to help you, we both ended up on the receiving end of Captain Glandur’s wrath,” Horphen pointed out.

Feredir laughed at the thought. “Nothing so dangerous this time, my friend. I was just on my way to see a goldsmith and thought--.”

“Feredir, selecting rings is not exactly something I think I would be good at. Besides, this should be solely your decision,” Horphen interrupted.

“I only ask for your opinion, not to pick the rings for me. Come now, where else are you needed right now? Your family is attending their duties and that little sweetling is busy in the kitchens.”

“Very well, let’s go then,” answered Horphen without resistance. He knew that once Feredir recruited him for something, there was no denying him.

* * *

“My, she is a pretty thing isn’t she?” the dressmaker said to Laveth while Terrwyn was in a small changing room being stuffed into yet another dress with the help of one of the dress shop attendants.

“She is half elven you know, just like Feredir. They really do make a lovely couple,” Laveth answered joyfully.

The dressmaker was a longtime friend of Laveth. Glothel was her name. She had very long straight silver hair, tall and thin and eyes as blue as the summer sky. They had met many thousands of years ago, before Laveth met and married Alagon. Glothel was there for every milestone and even during those hard years after Feredir was born. The dressmaker was a constant in Laveth’s life, someone she loved and trusted, which was why it was so easy to tell Glothel about Terrwyn.

“Well, I’m just happy to see that Feredir is finally settling down, especially since you will be sailing soon,” Glothel mentioned after hearing Terrwyn story. “Now if we can only get that older boy of yours straightened out,” she laughed.

“I’m afraid Orthorien will never settle, but he is happy and that is enough for me. Should he come to Valinor without a mate though, I will have a few lined up for him as soon as he steps ashore,” Laveth jested.

“Better have two separate lines,” Glothel said with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, well as long as they are elvish, I care not about gender,” Laveth answered and they both laughed together.

Just then, Terrwyn stepped out of the small room, separating the curtain that covered the entrance. Glothel and Laveth both inhaled sharply as their eyes fell upon the beautiful young woman. The gown was a very pale shade of green made from the finest silk, floor length with a full skirt. The top was essentially a corset made of silk brocade, cinched tight to show off her waist. Upon it were tiny golden velvet ivy leaves outlined in dark green thread. Green and gold thread outlined the bottom edge of the corset, coming to a V-shape in the front. Crystals sewn along the neckline of the corset gave it just enough shine without being overwhelming. Her shoulders were left bare but for thin straps made of the same clear shiny jewels, two straps that went over her shoulders and two that ran down from her shoulder and part way down her arm where it connected to cuffs. The leaf pattern repeated here and long sheer flowing sleeves draped to her wrist.

Terrwyn looked down to her cleavage, which was pushed up due to the tight fitting corset. She smiled to think that she had enough to fill it, but was glad to see that she could. Her bare shoulders made her slightly self-conscious and she held her hands clasped together in front of her as the two ellith inspected her.

“I’ve never worn anything quite like this before. I’m not sure it is appropriate for such an occasion,” she said worriedly.

Glothel stepped forward. “My dear, it is perfect for a lovely woman such as yourself. This is the most important day of your life and you should look stunning.” Glothel stepped back and admired the young Rohirric woman.

“How does it feel?” Laveth asked.

“Very elvish, like there is a part of me I have not discovered yet.” Terrwyn looked down to the floor. “As if I belong,” she added, understanding what Feredir meant when he told her the same thing once.

Laveth and Glothel smiled at each other before the dressmaker went to Terrwyn. “Well, it seems that we have found the dress. Now I just need to take a few measurements and we can have it fitting you perfectly. I presume there is still time,” she said turning to Laveth.

“Oh why yes, there are many arrangements yet to make and we must see when the hall is free. We are in no hurry and I’m sure Terrwyn would like to become accustom to her new surroundings first,” Laveth answered.

“I would like that very much,” said a shy Terrwyn before she stepped back into the changing area where one of Glothel’s maids waited to help her out of the dress.

Laveth whispered to her friend. “Do you think you could put together some daily outfits for her? She came with only a few things. Just some simple dresses and perhaps something a little fancier for the upcoming spring festival would do.”

Glothel nodded in agreement. “I have a few pieces that will fit her now and the rest I can have by the end of the week.”

The friends hugged. “Thank you, Glothel. You are always such a help,” Laveth whispered.

* * *

“I think I have what you are looking for,” said the goldsmith. He was a very wise looking elf, probably most ancient. His hair hung down below his waist, a dark golden color. Feredir noticed how his fingers delicately held each piece of jewelry as if they would turn to dust. Much thought and personal fondness went into each piece that he made.

After looking over his regular pieces, the goldsmith picked up a wooden case from low on a shelf and sat it on the counter. He opened the lid and Feredir was met with an array of golden rings in sets of two, one for the husband to be and one for his soon to be wife. The dark haired warrior looked at them carefully. Some were plain gold rings and some had quite a bit of detail with tiny jewels embedded in them. Feredir knew that he and Terrwyn were simple people and he wanted rings that would signify that.

“They are all quite exquisite,” mentioned Horphen, as he looked the case over carefully.

Feredir nodded and kept searching for something to catch his eye. Then there it was, a set of rings with an intricate detail engraved into them, interweaving lines with no beginning and no end. He took the smaller one and carefully pulled it from its protective bedding. He held it up to the natural light coming in from a nearby window and noticed how it shimmered where the design was. It looked as if it had diamonds in it the way it sparkled so.

“What do you think of this one, Horphen?” Feredir asked his friend.

Horphen looked at the ring Feredir held and then back to the fancier rings still in the case. “Are you sure she would not like one of these?” he asked pointing to a ring adorned with emeralds.

“It is too much. She would not want something so extravagant and neither would I for that matter, but this is something I think she would adore.” Feredir turned the ring over in his fingers.

“I do like the unending design,” Horphen commented.

“It holds some significance does it not?” Feredir smiled. “Through all eternity.”

“I could engrave that on the inside of the rings if you so choose,” the goldsmith spoke up.

“I like that,” Horphen said.

“Perfect,” Feredir added with a gleam in his silver eyes. “I will take them.”

Feredir handed the goldsmith a pouch containing the correct amount for the purchase of the rings. The goldsmith told him they would be ready in a week’s time. Now there was one less thing to worry about and more time for Feredir to concentrate on Terrwyn and introducing her to his begetting place.

* * *

That evening, Feredir and Terrwyn came together after a long day separated from each other. They sat on the floor in front of a fireplace in their guest quarters at the palace. Feredir took a glass and filled it with a rich red wine, handing it to Terrwyn before he poured his own. He moved closer to her and she cuddled into his chest, sipping slowly on the potent drink.

“And what did you do today?” he asked after their bodies warmed due to the fire and partly because of the wine.

“Well, Laveth took me to see her friend Glothel. She fitted me with a few outfits. And it seems that I also found a dress for our ceremony.” A smile spread quickly as she thought about Feredir seeing her in it for the first time. “But you will get nothing more out of me. You will see soon enough and I think you’ll be quite pleased.” Terrwyn laughed and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “So, what did you do today?”

“Horphen and I visited the goldsmith. I think I found the perfect pair of gold rings and that is all I have to say about that,” he teased.

“Oh, that reminds me--.” Terrwyn jumped up from her spot in his comfortable arms and went to a table where she put the small wooden box Laveth had given her earlier. She instantly felt lightheaded, probably due to the wine. She floated back to the fire, dropped easily back to her spot beside Feredir and handed him the box. “I suppose you already know what is in here.”

“I do,” he said as he looked at the wood grain pattern on the lid. “Mother gave these to us?”

“To borrow until we exchange them for our wedding rings,” she answered.

“I have not seen these in many long years, not since I was an elfling. She always kept them tucked away on a shelf and never spoke of them to me. I remember seeing her gazing at them one time when I had snuck out of my room. I had heard a strange noise coming from the living area and found my mother kneeling with her legs tucked beneath her, the open box in her lap as she wept. Despite their differences, she loved Alagon very much. It was difficult to understand all of that when I was so young, but Mother never let me feel like a burden. She always made it very clear just how important I was to her, and how important my father had been to her during their short time together.” He paused, smiling as he took the rings from the box. Taking the smaller of the two, he gently slipped it onto Terrwyn’s finger. She watched as his hand carefully caressed hers until the ring slid all the way on. Then she took the other ring and slid it onto Feredir’s finger. They intertwined the fingers of their ring bearing hands and watched as the flames from the nearby fire danced in their reflection.

“A proper elvish betrothal?” Terrwyn asked teasingly. 

Feredir leaned forward and kissed her deeply, lowering her until she was lying beneath him. “Well, at least partially proper,” he said slyly and captured her lips again before ravishing her neck and moving lower to her breasts and other parts that needed personal attention. They made love by the fire that night, all the while their hands clasped tightly, the feel of the silver rings rubbing together signifying their promise to each other and a bond between them that would never break.

* * *

The next morning, Terrwyn woke early and dressed in one of her new outfits. She was sitting at a vanity, tying back her hair and tucking in a few loose curls when warm hands and strong arms surrounded her waist. Feredir took advantage of her exposed neck, kissing it tenderly. “And where are you off too at such an early hour. We are not here but only a few days and already you have somewhere to be. I thought I would show you around the woodland city today.”

“And we can still do that, but it will have to wait until a little later. I am to meet with Horphen’s sister, Irneth this morning. She may be able to help me find something to do during my stay here in Eryn Lasgalen.”

Feredir wrinkled his brow. “You do not need to do anything. You are a visitor.”

Terrwyn turned to face him. “No Feredir, I am about to become your wife. Well, I already am but . . . oh, you know what I mean. I want to contribute in some way and Irneth is helping me.”

“And just what are you going to do to contribute to the King’s land?” His question was not at all serious as he seemed to tease her. He reached for her again, but this time Terrwyn warded him off.

“I cannot just sit around and wait for our wedding day and if we are going to be here for a while, I must find employment somewhere. Ever since I can remember I have held a job of some kind. Master Curuven taught me much about medicine and healing so Irneth is going to introduce me to one of the palaces head healers. Remlas is his name I believe.”

Feredir looked confused. “Remlas? I can’t imagine him taking on an apprentice. He has not had dealings with anyone since the dark days. He is not exactly the most outgoing elf in Eryn Lasgalen.” Feredir shook his head. “I’m afraid you will have to look elsewhere for employment. I believe Remlas will refuse.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Terrwyn said with an upbeat tone. “Irneth told me his story, how he lost his wife and almost succumbed to his grief. There was a reason he stayed in Middle-earth. I believe he has a passion for his art and Irneth thinks I am just the person to bring him out of his shell. She says his knowledge is infinite when it comes to healing. And I want to do this, Feredir. I do love the craft and I think I can become quite good at it.”

Feredir kissed her. “I will never stand in your way. Besides, once you put your mind to something there is no stopping you. Go on then, and I will meet you later. I’ll show you the gardens and maybe one of my old hiding spots.” He wiggled his eyebrows and winked at her.

“And I’m sure I am not the first girl you have taken to this place,” she inquired.

“Well, you are the only one I have ever loved that I have taken there,” he rebutted.

“You always have an answer, don’t you?”

“And I always get the last word.”

Terrwyn rolled her eyes. “Some things never change.”

Terrwyn walked past him on her way to the door when Feredir slapped her on the rear, making her jump. “And you like it that way.” She started to speak, but he held up a finger. “Ah, ah . . . remember . . . last word.” He kissed her just to make his point and Terrwyn was left slightly dazed. Feredir’s kisses were like that, especially the quick and fiery ones. She smiled and without a word, slipped out the door on her way to start her day.


	64. Master Remlas

Terrwyn made her way through the corridors of the palace, arriving at one of the upper halls. It was located next to the dining hall, which Terrwyn knew her way to. This spacious room housed many vibrant tapestries portraying ancient cities of long ago. Some depicted elves that Terrwyn did not recognize. One in particular caught her attention as he had an air of familiarity about him. It made her think of Legolas, yes that was it. She remembered the Lord of North Ithilien telling her stories about his heritage when she was recovering from her accident in Minas Tirith. This must have been his grandfather, Oropher. The resemblance was uncanny. Therefore, the depiction of the ancient city to the left of Oropher must have been Doriath, where he hailed from before becoming King of Greenwood the Great. Terrwyn longed to hear more stories about these original settlers. This kind of history had always intrigued her. Now more than ever, she felt as though she should be better educated in elvish lore.

“Oropher was a great leader during his rule,” said a strong deep voice from behind her. She jumped slightly, gasping in surprise as she was brought out of her daydreaming. Terrwyn turned to find a most important looking elf standing there, gazing up at the tapestry. His eyes turned and settled on the young woman, bright blue eyes that held an ancient wisdom within their depths. Long platinum hair hung to his waist, a wreath made of leaves resting upon his forehead. Another familiar face that she had not seen before looked upon her with welcoming. Terrwyn guessed whom this was but made no assumption aloud.

The glowing wood elf reached his open palm out to Terrwyn and she gave her hand to him readily. He held her fingers gently within his own hand as he brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles, a sign of greeting amongst males and females. His lips were warm and firm upon her hand and she found his charm to be quite irresistible. Terrwyn had seen this form of charm before with the regal and handsome elf lord in Ithilien. She tried not to gawk at him, shaking off her sense of surprise and awe. In true lady-like fashion, Terrwyn curtsied while the elf still held her hand. When she stood straight again, she smiled.

“King Thranduil I presume,” she said, surprised to have found her voice.

“Lovely and smart,” he answered with a twinkle in his blue depths. “And you must be the Lady Terrwyn.”

“What gave me away?” she jested as she brushed her red hair from her shoulder. Again, she was amazed at how comfortable she felt in his presence. To her, it felt like being with Legolas as father and son seemed to hold that same sense of acceptance towards outsiders.

“And a keen sense of humor,” Thranduil added as he released her hand. “I received word upon your arrival. It seems you caused a bit of a stir at my gates.”

“I am sorry to have come uninvited, Your Majesty, but I could not part with the company that I kept, one of them my husband,” she answered honestly.

“And so I have also been made aware. Feredir is a fine young ellon and his mother is one of my most trusted advisors.” He paused a moment as he searched her countenance. “I do hope you are finding my halls to be satisfactory.”

“Exquisitely so,” was her short answer accompanied by a smile. Terrwyn looked back to the tapestry. “Legolas told me about his grandfather and I was just admiring his likeness.”

“Yes, Legolas does seem to have inherited many of my father’s attributes, much more than me I’m afraid.” Thranduil stepped to her side. “Legolas mentioned you and your troubles in one of his letters. My son is a great judge of character and so I was not surprised to see that he felt the need to help you. I was also glad to know that the information gathered on your behalf helped to clear your name. And I’m sure it did not hurt to have one of my best captains assisting you either. Orthorien is a most loyal warrior.”

“That he is, Your Majesty. Ithilien was very fortunate to have his services while he was there. I’m sure he will be missed, but I believe he is much happier now that he is home in Eryn Lasgalen.” As Terrwyn finished speaking, Irneth came up them, curtsied and smiled to King Thranduil.

“I am sorry to interrupt, my King, but I came to retrieve the Lady Terrwyn. We are expected elsewhere,” Irneth said.

“Not here more than a few days and already you are . . . expected,” teased Thranduil.

“Irneth has said she could help me find someone to further my training as a healer,” Terrwyn responded. “While in Ithilien, I studied under Master Curuven. I had hoped to learn more during my stay in Eryn Lasgalen, possibly something new since I am in a different country.”

“Perhaps I could be of assistance. There are many qualified healers here in the palace,” Thranduil offered.

“Actually, Your Majesty,” Irneth added. “I have already spoken to someone.”

“Who might I ask?” the King inquired.

“Master Remlas, Sire.” Irneth spoke softly and with uncertainty.

Thranduil was silent a moment before he spoke. “There is no doubt that Master Remlas is my best healer, but he has not taken on an apprentice in many long years.”

“He was quite reluctant at first but--.”

“He was?” Terrwyn said worriedly.

“Yes, but he says he will ‘humor me’ and speak with you. He may decide not to accept a new student. He is very skeptical,” answered Irneth.

“Then why are you insisting on this person?” Terrwyn wondered.

“Because he is our best healer,” Thranduil answered for Irneth. “You are right to go to Master Remlas, but do not be surprised if he declines. It has nothing to do with you, Terrwyn. He is long lived and set in his ways.”

Terrwyn took that to mean that Remlas was old and stubborn. Actually, she was reminded of Alric just then. She remembered how reluctant the old Rohirric man was to bring her into his home, but he still found it within his heart to help her. She smiled then and looked to Thranduil and Irneth. “Actually, I would be quite honored to meet Master Remlas. I will speak with him and maybe he will change his mind,” she said positively. She finished her conversation with the King of Eryn Lasgalen and left with Irneth to the healing houses where Remlas’ workroom and study was. Terrwyn readied her mind and her will to meet this seemingly stubborn elf, the better part of her Rohirric influence bubbling to the surface as she went.

* * *

The healing house was a rather large part of this section of the underground palace. The first room Irneth led them through was long with tall ceilings. There were beds lined up on either side, only a few with occupants. Surprisingly, there were a few long horizontal windows high up on one side. It seemed this room was not buried as deep as some of the others. Terrwyn thought about this. During times of war, it was especially important to get soldiers help fast. Having the healing house situated so close to the outside world meant ease of access. She figured there was a door, or multiple doors leading to the outside where the wounded could be brought back quickly for treatment. So it seemed that this room was for those with minor injuries.

At the back of the long room was another entrance to another section of the healing house. In here, the beds were partitioned from one another. This would be where those who sustained more serious injuries would be housed. It was also where the Healer’s personal offices were located. Terrwyn noticed there was a door every so often as they walked the length of this second room. Upon the doors were carved details, looping designs with no straight edges, just like most things elvish.

Irneth led Terrwyn to the very back of this room until they came to one such door. It was the one door furthest away from the others. Of course, Terrwyn thought to herself as Irneth gently knocked on the door, the elusive Master Remlas.

“Come in,” said a low voice from behind the door.

Irneth pushed the door open and entered, Terrwyn close on her heels. “Master Remlas, I believe you were expecting us.”

He was not sitting behind his desk as Terrwyn thought she would find him, but rather he was standing by a back shelf, which housed many jar and bottles, boxes and trays. There was an array of dried herbs and powders, odd things in bottles and submerged in liquid of some sort. One shelf held tied bundles of twigs, roots and other plant life.

Remlas had his back turned to them, but slowly spun in their direction after Irneth called his name. Terrwyn took in the sight of him, though she had seen him before in the dining hall. Now she had a closer view. He was as tall as any of his kin with gilded hair of the same tone that ended at his waist, gathered at the top and sides and braided down the back. The rest flowed over the front of his shoulders. He was dressed in a long white robe made of a heavy raw silk material, which hung almost to the floor, tied with a wide lavender sash about his middle. It had a high collar and long sleeves split half way up his arm. When he took a few steps forward, Terrwyn could see that beneath the robe he wore wide legged pants made of the same silk as the robe and lavender slippers that matched the sash. Terrwyn had known Master Curuven to wear outfits similar to this one and figured it must be common attire for healers.

Remlas had his face buried in a book, the pages yellowed from age. It was obvious that he used this book quite often. Over the top edge of the book, Terrwyn saw a feather dancing about. He was writing something, which meant this was a personal ledger of some sort, probably for keeping track of ingredients or measurements for new concoctions. Irneth and Terrwyn stood still waiting for the Master Healer to finish with is current project. Then, dark blue stern eyes peeked over the edge of the book, settling on Terrwyn. She could tell right away that he was none too happy about this new adventure. It was still up to him whether he wanted to accept Terrwyn as his apprentice and from the turned down dark brows that sat just above unemotional eyes, she felt she had not a chance. Remlas lowered the ledger and Terrwyn could see the rest of his face. Thin lips closed tight looked as if they had not produced a smile in a century. He had a long lean face, high cheekbones and tall forehead, but his eyes held some bit of sorrow. It was not very prominent, but Terrwyn could see it behind the façade, an unrelenting stare. Even so, he was a handsome elf, wise looking and most ancient. It still fascinated Terrwyn that some elves had been alive since the forming of Middle-earth. It was difficult to fathom such age and seemingly infinite years of life. Remlas gave such an impression. There would be nothing she could tell him that he did not already know. With that thought, she knew all she could truly be was his student and even at that, she would never learn all that he could teach her.

“Name,” he demanded as he closed the book with a snap and brought it to his chest.

“Terrwyn, Master Healer,” she answered.

“No titles, please. We were given names and therefore they should be used appropriately. You may simply call me Remlas.” He glanced at Irneth. “You may go. I have some questions for Terrwyn.”

Irneth bowed politely and turned to the door, but Remlas spoke again. “Do not go too far though. She may need you to escort her back to the main halls,” He set his eyes back on Terrwyn. “I may deem this unnecessary.” With that said, Irneth exited the office, closing the door behind her. Then she took a seat on a nearby bench and waited to see what the outcome would be.

The two of them alone now, Remlas closed the distance between him and Terrwyn, walking in a tight circle around her. She felt as if she were under close examination, but dared not speak until he asked her a question.

“Where do you hail from?” he asked beginning a line of quick questions.

“The Westfold.”

Remlas was not impressed. “An uneducated people.”

“I am self-taught.”

“Hmm yes, well I would have more faith had you been from Edoras.”

“I lived there for a while, sir.”

“I said no titles,” he corrected sharply. “Is this a sign that you do not listen to orders?”

“No, my apologies. I was only trying to show respect.” Terrwyn was quick with her answers and now paid closer attention to her words.

Remlas came back around and stood in front of her. “What experience do you have with medicine? Please do not tell me you are self-taught with that too.”

“I lived in Ithilien for a while and studied under the Master Healer there, Master--.”

“Curuven,” he finished for her. “Yes, I know of whom you speak. He was my student many long years ago.” Terrwyn’s jaw dropped as a look of surprise spread across her countenance. Remlas gave her no time to respond as he stepped aside and held a hand out towards the back of the room. “On these shelves you will find everything needed to make any type of medicine. Let’s test you first. Gather the ingredients needed to make a simple salve.”

Terrwyn did not move right away as she was slightly flustered by the stern healer. Remlas brought his hands together, folding them in front of him. “If you cannot move faster than this, then I’m afraid we are done here.”

“Oh, no sir . . . uh . . . Master . . . I mean, Remlas,” she stuttered as she rushed to the shelves and began looking at his stock. Everything was neatly arranged and in order according to ingredients. She gave it a quick look-over and figured out his system of organizing, then began collecting the things she needed to make the salve. She sat everything carefully on the workbench to the side of the shelves and turned to Remlas when she was done. He approached her, eyeing her carefully. He examined her choices and noticed there was one herb that he did not expect her to choose. He was quite sure that it did not grow in Ithilien and therefore wondered how she would know about it.

“Why did you pick this one here?” he questioned pointing to the bunch of dried leaves.

“Well, normally I would not choose that one, but I am in Eryn Lasgalen and there are more poisonings from spiders than orc blades. I thought it was more appropriate for the type of wound.”

Remlas raised one of his dark eyebrows. “Impressive,” he mentioned and Terrwyn smiled at her small victory. “But by no means the reason for my decision.” He paused, making Terrwyn wait for the rest.

“Your decision?” she asked carefully when he did not speak again.

“I will give you a chance, but only one. Should you not learn quickly enough or to my satisfaction, I’m afraid I must terminate these teachings. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Remlas,” Terrwyn answered.

“Mmhmm, we will see,” he mumbled through thin lips. Then he raised his hand and made a shooing gesture towards the door. “Go then. We will start tomorrow.”

Terrwyn bowed before going to his door. She opened it, stopped and turned her head back to him. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

Remlas said nothing, but eyed her carefully once more and nodded. He hated everything about his decision to take on an apprentice, but something about this woman intrigued him, though he would hardly admit it. Besides, if she turned out to be more than a bother, he would just tell her to go and that would be that. There were plenty of other healers who would gladly teach her, though she could not learn as much as he could teach her.

Terrwyn came out of Remlas’ office and Irneth jumped up from her bench. “So, what did he say?” the elleth asked anxiously.

“He told me to come back tomorrow.”

Irneth hugged Terrwyn. “Oh this is wonderful news. I cannot believe that he wants you to return, but I’m glad.”

“Well, he is giving me a very small opportunity to prove to him that I am worth his time. I’m not sure I know enough to impress him. I get the feeling that he is looking for someone who is already well educated and I just don’t know.”

“The fact that you have gotten this far is truly a sign of your talent. Remlas has not worked with anyone in many years. Oh, I am happy for you, Terrwyn. Wait until Feredir learns of this. He will be so proud.” Irneth took Terrwyn by the hand. “Come on, let’s get you back home. Feredir will be waiting for you. He is anxious to show you around.” The two friends hurried back towards the guest quarters.

* * *

It had been a few weeks since Terrwyn first met Remlas and she was still working with him. She sized him up quickly and learned how to interact with him. He wanted things done neatly and in a timely fashion. When he asked a question, he did not want a long drawn out answer, simply straight to the point. He wanted to know she was paying attention and soon she found out that he was easier to get along with when she asked him questions instead of just watching and listening. In a way, Terrwyn was learning how to . . . well, learn. Remlas was the type that needed to know she was aware of what he was saying and doing, otherwise he felt as if he were talking to a wall. And Terrwyn was very interested in everything he had to teach her.

Still, there were those times when she did not do or say as he wished. He was hard on her when she made a mistake and it usually led to her sterilizing containers and utensils, something she was very familiar with from working with Master Curuven. Terrwyn realized that while she was serving her punishment, she was thinking deeply about her mistakes and what to do to make things right.

The one thing Remlas had not done was ask Terrwyn any personal questions about her or her life, which was why she was shocked when out of silence he spoke. “I see you wear a silver ring upon your finger. Are you betrothed?”

Terrwyn stopped crushing the dried leaves before her and looked to the Master Healer, who kept his nose buried in his book. “It is too long of a story to tell, but I am already bound to my husband. Now we seek a proper ceremony,” she said proudly.

Without lifting his head, he rolled his eyes up, glancing at her from the bridge of his nose. “To an elf?” His question was almost accusatory.

“Yes, he is an elf. Well, he is half elf,” she answered. “Feredir, the son of Laveth, the King’s top negotiator.”

Remlas bowed his head back into his ledger without answering for a few long moments before he spoke again. “Seems rather peculiar to me, but then he has lived amongst the race of men for some time now. I guess it makes sense that he would settle down with a human.”

“Oh well yes, but I am also part elf.” Terrwyn continued.

Remlas looked at her from over his book. He held his current state of calmness, but was shocked to hear of her heritage. He replaced his quill into the inkpot and laid the book down. Now he carefully observed Terrwyn as she worked at her station, not noticing Remlas’ reaction. “I would not have guessed it. It is obvious you have favored your Rohirric ancestry.”

Terrwyn nodded silently. She was not sure why she felt compelled to tell the Master healer this bit of personal information. So far, she had avoided any deep discussion about it, even with Feredir. She just wasn’t ready to talk about it, worried how it might change her once she accepted the fact. Remlas seemed very curious about it though. This was the most interest she had seen him take in anything but medicine and teaching and she felt a little uncomfortable. “I . . . I have only recently discovered this.

Remlas got up from his desk and walked around to the front. His white robes chased behind him as he turned to face Terrwyn. Now he looked at her more closely. “Who was your elf parent?” His voice was soft as he spoke.

“My father was, but I never met him. As I said, until recently I did not know any of this.” She stopped working and glanced across the way to Remlas. “I hope none of this makes any difference to you. No matter who I am or how I was raised, I am very interested in healing and I intend to do my best.”

Remlas realized he was intruding and quickly turned from her. He cleared his throat to dispatch the kindness in his voice. “Well, it makes sense now why you are such an avid learner for this occupation. You have the quick wit of the elves.”

Terrwyn took offence to this and was about to defend her Rohirric people when the door to the workroom flew open and a young elf maiden interrupted. She was out of breath and looked extremely concerned.

“Master Healer, there has been an accident at the practice fields. One of the trainees was sparing and he was cut badly on his leg,” she said worriedly.

“They were sparing with real weapons?” Remlas asked irritated by what he heard.

“They are the advanced group, sir,” the elleth answered.

Without another word, Remlas reached for a bag he kept by the workroom door. He ordered Terrwyn to gather bandages and some cloths and follow him. She figured the advanced trainees used real weapons instead of practice ones. They followed the maiden out of the healing house and to a door that Terrwyn had noticed when Irneth first brought her here. Just as she thought, the door led to the outside. So she was right about the healing houses being close to the surface of the mountain instead of being buried deep as was Thranduil’s throne room.

“This way,” the maiden called as they followed her deeper into the thick woods. Terrwyn looked up and noticed how the branches in the canopy of the trees seemed to overlap each other, practically shutting out any sunlight. She had not been in this part of the forest. Feredir took her around to see gardens and celebration glades, but not to the practice grounds. This part of the woods seemed somewhat closed off to the other areas.

Finally, they approached a group of elven warriors, or warriors in training. They were all wearing tunics, leggings and boots, quivers strapped to their backs and swords at their sides. Terrwyn thought they looked ready for war, not practicing.

“Move back now. Let me through,” Remlas demanded in his native tongue. As he pushed through, Terrwyn followed close behind him. She noticed that the elves stared at her as she made her way to the injured man. She suddenly felt very out of place as they all looked at her with bias. They instantly seemed to forget about the injured soldier. The crowd that had split apart at Remlas’ barking orders now enclosed upon the Rohirrim woman and she nearly crawled into the healers white robe. When he felt Terrwyn pushing him forward, he turned to see the looks from the curious soldiers. “That will be enough, men. Go back to whatever it was you were doing and let us work here.” He nodded to Terrwyn. “She is my new apprentice is all. Now go,” he demanded trying to disperse the crowd.

“But she is a woman,” one of the soldiers said.

Remlas towered above the youth who spoke. “Yes she is a woman. She is from Rohan and has been given permission by the King to be here. If you find this to be unacceptable, I suggest you take it up with His Majesty.” His words were spoken with a sharp tongue and the crowd immediately began to break apart and move away, all but for the ellon who questioned him.

“You have not taken on a student in a hundred years and now you would teach her, a human?” the soldier accused.

Remlas’ eyes narrowed as he regarded this brave but stupid elf. “I suggest you move along with your troops least you be put on latrine duty for your next hundred years, soldier.”

The student warrior backed away when one of his partners took hold of his arm, but his eyes remained on Terrwyn and she felt a cold chill run up her spine. When they were finally away from her and the healer, Remlas laid a hand gently on her shoulder. “Some still do not trust outsiders, least of all humans. Pay no attention to him though. There are more who accept the changes in the world than the ones who do not.”

With that said, Remlas went straight to the injured elf lying on the ground, a pool of blood beneath his leg. The cut was very deep and Terrwyn feared an artery might have been severed. Remlas glanced at his assistant, seeing the worry on her face. “It looks worse than it is. A thorough cleaning and some stitches and he’ll be back on his feet in no time. Now, hand me those bandages.”

Terrwyn did as she was commanded, handing him whatever he asked for from his bag. Not once did she give him the wrong item and soon the soldier was bandaged up, put on a litter and taken to the healing house. Still, all the while, Terrwyn could not help but think about the response by the one student. He seemed angry with Remlas and his choice to take her on as an apprentice. She filed the information away and would hopefully be able to ask the Master Healer about it later when they returned to his workroom.


	65. Progress and Pillow Talk

The injured soldier was resting comfortably in one of the many beds of the healing house. Terrwyn had assisted in the cleaning and bandaging of the leg wound. Though she had learned and practiced this sort of thing in Ithilien, Master Remlas showed her his personal techniques for attending such wounds. She watched and listened carefully, pleasing her teacher. He worked quickly, maybe a little too quickly for Terrwyn’s taste. As soon as Remlas was through with his patient, he left the soldier and returned to his office to record the accident as well as the treatment. Terrwyn stayed by the bed watching the healer dash off. She was about to follow when the soldier took hold of her arm lightly.

“My lady, this happened so fast I did not get a chance to discover the outcome of my training,” he said.

Terrwyn was confused. “You took an injury. I would say you lost the duel or am I mistaken about such challenges amongst wood elves.”

The elf smiled as he winced trying to sit up. “There is more than one duel fought and each one is graded by points. It is possible to lose the last battle and still win the challenge. I beat my other two opponents. Depending on my technique, I might have won after all. Please, this may determine whether I will be a border guard or not. If it’s not too much trouble, could you find out for me? I really must know.”

Terrwyn nodded. “Let me see what I can do.” She patted his hand where it lay on her arm, smiled warmly and made sure there was nothing else he needed before she left his side. When she returned to the workroom, Remlas was sitting at his desk, nose buried in his ledger. Without saying a word, she reached for her cloak that hung by the door. Remlas observed her from behind his book.

“And just where do you think you are off too?” he said, catching Terrwyn off guard.

“Oh, well the soldier asked a favor of me. He is worried about his grades and I thought since there is nothing else to be done at the moment I would--.”

“You are not his servant, therefore the boy can wait,” Remlas interrupted.

Terrwyn froze with her hand still on the hanging cloak. “It is really no trouble and--.”

“I said . . . he can wait.” The healer’s tone was one of authority. “You have work to do here or have you already forgotten that you are my student. You cannot just come and go as you please without my permission. The young elf will find out soon enough whether he passed or not. Let him wait.”

Terrwyn did not agree with this, but there was nothing she could do about it. Now she looked around for an excuse to go back and tell the young soldier that she could not help him. “I believe I left some dirty rags in the healing room.”

Remlas glanced up at her again, obviously perturbed by another interruption. After an uncomfortable amount of time, he spoke. “Well go retrieve them. You’ll need to clean and sterilize all of them and quickly.”

Terrwyn scooted out the door without hesitation and went back to the injured elf. She noticed that the maiden who came to them for help was here now, stroking the young trainee’s forehead and smiling down at him. Terrwyn understood why the elleth seemed so worried and upset earlier. She knew him.

“I am sorry, but I am needed here at the moment and I cannot do as you ask. I’m sure you did quite well today. You should not worry,” Terrwyn informed him. She looked to the maiden and got an idea. “Or perhaps you could do this for me since I cannot leave.”

“I would be glad to, my lady,” said the elleth excitedly.

“Could you go back to the practice grounds and find out how my patient fared today?” Terrwyn asked.

“Oh of course, I’d be happy to.” She was a very enthusiastic elf and darted off to run her errand.

Terrwyn turned back to her patient. “She seems quite fond of you.”

“She is my best friend’s sister and she is very sweet . . . but very young,” he answered.

Terrwyn smiled. “Well, you never can tell what the future holds now can you.” She gave the soldier a wink before she continued. “I am sorry I could not go, but I have work to do and--.”

“Say no more. I know all about Master Remlas. Tough old elf he is.”

Terrwyn laughed. “That’s putting it nicely.” She looked over her shoulder just to make sure Remlas had not come out of his office. Then she bent down and whispered. “He has such a thick wall around him, it makes Helm’s Deep look like a boxwood hedge.”

The elf laughed and motioned for her to come closer again. “I heard he actually met the famous Glorfindel once. He thought that the balrog he slayed had been reincarnated as the Master Healer.”

Terrwyn laughed until tears streamed from her eyes. “I am glad I’m not the only one who thinks this.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, how is it you are Master Remlas’ student? I think there are a few of us curious about this. The healer has not taught anyone in many long years.”

“With the help of a new friend, we just asked,” said Terrwyn shrugging her shoulders. “And after a long interview, he agreed. But if I don’t get back in there soon, I won’t be his pupil much longer.”

“I understand. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me.”

Terrwyn patted his arm. “If you need anything, just ask.”

* * *

Terrwyn lay curled up in Feredir’s arms that night. He twirled a strand of her red hair between his fingers and listened to her breathe softly against his chest. It was not long ago that he thought he would never experience this comfort again and silently thanked the Valar for their new life together.

Feredir thought she was adjusting quickly to life in Eryn Lasgalen. They had been there for three months now and already she was quite busy training with the Master healer. One thing Feredir worried about was her avoidance to talk about her heritage. Ever since learning that she was sired by an elf, Terrwyn managed to dodge any questions or discussion about it. He thought she just needed time at first, but she still shied away from the mere mention of it. However, it was still all very new to her so Feredir let her be. Maybe after the wedding and after she felt more comfortable with her position in the healing houses he would try to get her to open up again.

Terrwyn gave a heavy sigh and Feredir sensed something bothering her. “What is wrong?”

“It’s nothing I’m sure. It’s just something I’ve noticed lately about Master Remlas. He just . . . well . . . he seems very distant with his patients.”

“Distant?” Feredir questioned.

“Don’t misunderstand me, he takes care of them to the best of his abilities. He knows his craft better than anyone I’ve ever seen. It’s the time after he treats them that he seems to shy away. There is no patient/healer relationship. I may be mistaken and it could just be the way he was taught to behave, but I think he should at least spend a few moments getting to know a little about them. I believe it makes the patient feel better about the one who is taking care of them. For instance, a young soldier came to the healing house today with a very deep cut. After we cleaned and bandaged the wound and he was resting, Remlas dashed back to his office without any further concern for the ellon, no smile, not even a pat on the arm. He just gave the injured soldier instructions to stay in bed and call when he needed to go relieve himself. Remlas hardly gave the young man a chance to ask any questions. And when the soldier asked me to help him receive word of his grades from earlier that day, Remlas scolded me and told me I was not a servant and that the boy could wait.”

“Remlas yelled at you?” Feredir asked concerned.

“He did not yell, but he was a little harsh. It is nothing I am not already used to.”

Feredir didn’t like to know that Terrwyn might be treated poorly. This did not sit well with the dark haired elf, but he also knew this was part of her training. He would not interfere. Terrwyn could fend for herself. She needed to prove to Remlas as well as other elves that she could get along quite well on her own. It would do her no good to have him coming to her rescue every time someone disagreed with her. Still, there was no rule saying he could not give her his opinion. “Well, I don’t like to hear of Remlas being so strict with you.”

“Feredir,” she started to correct him, but he held his fingers to her lips.

“But I understand. I would never step in when I was not needed.” He moved so that he could capture her lips and kissed her lovingly. Terrwyn smiled to herself, glad that he understood and settled into his arms once again. They lay together for a while, comfortable and warm, before she broke the silence.

“Feredir?” she whispered.

“Yes, Naru,”

“What do you know about Master Remlas, about his life before the end of the war and the darkness?”

“Well,” said Feredir as he sat up a little. Terrwyn moved along with him. “If I understand correctly, Remlas came to Greenwood the Great along with King Oropher and Thranduil as well as with some of the others that left Doriath. He marched into war with Oropher’s army during the Last Alliance of Men and Elves and marched home with his defeated brothers in arms to witness the crowning of Thranduil after Oropher fell in the battle. The times turned to happier days for a while and Remlas met a Silvan elf by the name of Lorneth. They supposedly had a very long courtship before their betrothal. During that time, Remlas established himself as a head healer and eventually Master healer to Thranduil. He then married his longtime love and they lived here in the palace. Those who knew Remlas then speak of his liveliness and mirth and his ability to bring others closer together.” Feredir paused to let the information sink in.

“Remlas . . . liveliness and mirth?” Terrwyn said loudly before she burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh come now, Feredir.”

“So I have been told, mind you. I never actually witnessed it.”

When she contained her laughter, Terrwyn went on. “So what does the name Remlas mean anyways?”

Feredir knew his answer would have her laughing again. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes, so tell me.”

“It means ‘joy net’.”

Terrwyn kept a straight face for as long as she could handle, which was not very long at all, and broke out into another round of laughs. “Oh Feredir, why must you tease? Do you really expect me to believe any of this?”

Feredir unexpectedly rolled them both over so that he was lying on top of her. The sudden move by the wood elf made Terrwyn gasp. “Do you not believe me, Naru?”

Terrwyn took notice of the position he had her in and would play along. “And if I do not believe you, what will you do?”

He nipped at her neck making her squirm. “Oh I have my ways of convincing the weak.” Strong hands surrounded her waist and he began to tickle her mercilessly. Terrwyn writhed and twisted until she gave up.

“Alright, alright I believe you,” she laughed and Feredir let up on his torture. “But I have no choice do I, since you are an elf and you cannot lie.”

“So are you, Terrwyn,” he replied seeing an opportunity to bring up the subject.

Instantly her demeanor changed and she seemed to retreat. “Feredir,” she said quietly, not wanting to continue in this direction.

“Why do you avoid this?” he asked. It was time for her to give him some reason and stop running from the subject.

“I’m just not ready to--.”

“Terrwyn, we are bound as elves. We are about to bless our marriage in the eyes of the Valar. Why will you not talk about being part elvish?” he interrupted.

“Feredir, I was raised to be a proud Rohirrim. I love my country. I love its people and our beliefs. I don’t want to lose that part of me. Sometimes I feel I don’t know anything about elves and I’m afraid if I learn too much, that part that makes me Rohirric will disappear. Rohan is my home, my family. I can’t lose that.”

Feredir was relieved that this was all it was. Sometimes he feared she felt she made a mistake by binding to him, especially when she would not speak of her heritage. He smiled and sighed. “Terrwyn, you will always be Rohirric above all else. It is strong within your personality, within your veins. The blood of the horse lords runs deep, just as that of the elves runs deep within me. But that does not change the fact that another blood courses alongside it. Accepting your true heritage will not change who you are. It will not change how I feel about you or anyone else for that matter. Maybe you will feel better if you talk to someone else about it, Irneth perhaps. Ask questions, learn about our race and I think it will help you understand yourself better.”

He always had a way of making her feel better. Terrwyn realized she was not helping herself by running away from the facts. There was nothing to be afraid of. Besides, she didn’t feel any different. Even being in Eryn Lasgalen had not made her feel more or less elvish as well as Rohirric. However, not knowing and not understanding elves were part of her reluctance. She kissed him sweetly. “I am sorry, Feredir. I did not mean to worry you. I love you above all else and I would have things no other way. I think I will do as you say and have Irneth teach me that which I do not know.”

He nuzzled her neck. “All in good time, Naru.” He came to rest at her side once more and they settled into silence for a little while.

“I received a letter from Hathmund today,” Terrwyn said when it became too quiet. “He says his information about Rhûn and the Haradrim has helped tremendously. Rohan and Gondor will join forces and send troops into the deserts. They want to try to come to terms with them and flush out those who will not conform. Their means of slavery must stop. Hathmund is living proof of that.”

“This could mean that Eryn Lasgalen will be called upon to aid them in their plight,” Feredir stated.

Terrwyn shook her head. “This battle is between Men, not elves.” 

“It’s too bad. I would very much have liked to have gone back and found that wretched slave trader,” Feredir claimed as memories of his capture resurfaced.

“I am glad you are not,” Terrwyn stated. “I would not want to see you go back there. Once was enough. Besides, Abdan is probably dead by now. Since you and Orthorien ousted his name, I’m sure the chieftains of the clans he deceived have caught up to him and executed him by now.”

“Let us hope so.” Feredir let these horrid thoughts seep back into the depths of his mind. Each of them was deep in their own cognitions.

“I miss my brother,” Terrwyn whispered, a waiver in her voice. “Sometimes I feel as if he is still missing and I must remind myself that he is safe in Rohan. I desperately want us to be close to each other again. He is my only blood family now.”

“I am sure you will be together again. He must do what he feels is right for the moment and he is needed in your homeland. Give it time and you will be with him again. I only knew him briefly, but I can’t help but feel he is a brother to me also, though you are our connecting factor.”

Terrwyn sighed. “Maybe someday, that is always the answer.”

“Yes, and look at us. We said ‘maybe someday’ we would be together and here we are. “’Maybe someday’ you would get to see my woodland home and that is exactly where we are now.”

“Again, you are right.” She laughed. “I will say ‘maybe someday’ a thousand times if it means seeing my brother soon.”

With that last comment, an idea etched itself into Feredir’s mind. He tucked it safely away for tomorrow and scooped Terrwyn into his arms. “I know of one thing we no longer have to wait for,” he growled in her ear as he rolled on top of her, his naked body already thrumming for her attention.

“Oh Feredir,” she moaned as he wasted no time plunging into her depths.

* * *

The next day while Terrwyn was off to report to Master Remlas for another grueling day, Feredir paid his mother a visit at her office. It was time to set his newfound idea into motion. “How close are we to the ceremony and feast?” he asked after they said their greetings.

“Well, maybe closer than we think. Why do you ask?” Laveth said curiously.

“There is someone who I think must be here that day. Terrwyn’s brother remained behind in Rohan. I want to send correspondence and have him come here as soon as he can.”

“That is a long journey and didn’t you say he was injured?” Laveth asked.

“Terrwyn received a letter stating he was in good health. She misses him, Mother. I think he should be here. Hathmund is her only living family,” Feredir pleaded.

“This may not sit well with Thranduil. He still keeps his lands closed to outsiders.”

“That is why I come to you now. Speak with him and I am sure he will understand the importance of this visit.”

Laveth smiled. “Put together a letter that I can show to the King and I will speak with him.” Feredir gave her a hug and dashed off to find a scribe.

* * *

Another month had passed in Eryn Lasgalen. Terrwyn continued her work with Master Remlas and was becoming quite an experienced healer. He would not admit to it, but Terrwyn impressed him. Of course, she had previously studied under Master Curuven, but Remlas considered his form of teachings to be rather lenient. Remlas pushed Terrwyn as far as he could, challenging her often and pointing out her mistakes quickly. He was not the easiest person to get along with, but Terrwyn managed and saved her venting for Feredir or whichever elf was willing to hear her complaints. It helped and the others did not seem to mind.

When she was not busy with the Master Healer, she spent time with Horphen’s sister, Irneth. They had developed quite a friendly bond and became very close. Now the elleth was in the process of teaching Terrwyn simple elvish so that she could communicate better with those who did not speak the common tongue. Most did not in Eryn Lasgalen. Having no dealings with outsiders for many long years, they had no reason to speak anything other than Sindarin. There was the exception, those who needed to communicate with other realms for the good of the city. Terrwyn found herself associating with these elves more than other’s and at first did not see a reason to learn more than the simple elvish words to help her get along in Eryn Lasgalen. As Irneth taught her about elvish customs and rituals, Terrwyn began to realize she needed to know more than she thought. One reason was that no elvish wedding had ever been spoken in any language but for that of the elves and one very important part of the ceremony were the vows between the bride and groom. She decided she too needed to do this. She was, after all, half elvish and she had come to accept that recently. It was time to grasp that side of her she had yet to become familiar with and live fully as she was meant to. There would always be unanswered questions about her true heritage and never knowing who her elvish relatives were was a distraction at times. She knew nothing of her elvish father except that he was handsome and tall, blond hair, blue eyes. That described most elves in Eryn Lasgalen alone. Then there was Lothlorien and Rivendell. Terrwyn accepted the fact that she would never know, his secrets vanishing along with her mother when she died as well as with the elf himself as he sailed so long ago.

While Terrwyn went about her busy days, Feredir divided his time between Orthorien and his mother. Orthorien liked to show his young brother the changes Eryn Lasgalen had put in place since Feredir left his home. The older warrior shared strategies and other military maneuvers with him, all very helpful and some could be incorporated into the Ithilien army. Feredir would remember these things and bring them back with him, if that day would ever come. For now, Eryn Lasgalen was his home. He was glad to be back, but it was not the same as Ithilien. In Gondor, he had established himself where in Eryn Lasgalen he felt held back in a way. He had not advanced very far in the army before he set out on his own and so he did not feel he could participate with the other soldiers here. The dark haired elf discovered that Ithilien had become his real home where he felt comfortable, useful. He often wished he and Terrwyn could go back as soon as the ceremony was done, but for one factor. He would not leave until his mother was ready to sail. He had promised her once that he would be there for her and he meant to keep it.

Feredir could already see signs of his mother’s longing. She seemed to daydream more lately. Sometimes he would catch her outside of the palace, her face tilted to the wind, an assenting smile upon her lovely face. Their secret lands were calling her home. It saddened his heart to think of this day. Laveth was an important figure in his life. His mother helped shape him and make him who he was today. Still, he knew his mother looked forward to it. She would be happy to dwell with those who had gone before her and that gave Feredir comfort. He had recently discussed this with Orthorien and they both agreed that she was likely to sail soon after the wedding ceremony. Word reached Eryn Lasgalen of a ship leaving by summer’s end. Laveth would need to set out soon if she was to make it there in time. She had not said anything yet, but both of her sons sensed that this would be the opportunity she was waiting for. 

“And what will you do then?” Orthorien asked as he and Feredir visited.

“Once Mother leaves, Terrwyn and I will return to Ithilien.”

“Are you sure you would not rather stay here? I could use your talent, Feredir and not just as a soldier. I am in need of a new captain. You would be in charge of the troops in the east, all of them. They would be under your command.”

Feredir was surprised by his brother’s offer. “You strike a hard bargain, Orthorien. This is something I have always wanted.” He took a sip of his wine and contemplated the proposal. “But I cannot abandon my position in Ithilien. I have worked long and hard to get there and to maintain my standing with Captain Glandur.” He swirled the wine in his glass and laughed to himself. “It’s funny isn’t it. When I left Eryn Lasgalen, I was running away. Now I return to Ithilien of my own free will, because it is where I feel I belong.”

“It is your true calling, brother,” Orthorien said as he poured more wine. They sat back in their chairs by the fire and let the quiet and calm seize their minds and souls.

“So, the ceremony is in a few short days. Is everything set?” Orthorien asked.

“There is only one matter left, the arrival of Terrwyn’s brother. If everything goes as planned, he will be here in the next day or two.”

“And you have not told Terrwyn?”

“I want this to be a surprise. Besides, if she knew Hathmund was coming she would be too distracted to concentrate on the final preparations. Do not worry, brother. It will all work out.”

Orthorien creased his brows. “And if he is delayed and you have to postpone the ceremony, she will definitely become suspicious.”

Feredir laughed. “I’ll just tell her I need a little more time . . . cold feet . . . you know.”

“And your lifeless body will be sent back to Ithilien,” Orthorien jested.

“Either that or certain parts of my anatomy will be missing,” teased Feredir in return.

The brothers shared in a laugh, something they did more of these days. Then Orthorien’s eyes fell upon his young brother. “You have come far, Feredir and I am proud of you. I wish you would stay, but I understand your reason for leaving and I respect that. I will miss you though.”

Feredir nodded and smiled into his wine glass. “I will miss you too, Orthorien.”

That was all they needed to say to each other. The unspoken words left mingling in the air were well understood between the brothers.


	66. Blessings of the Valar

There were two halls in the upper level dining area. The smaller of the two was reserved for the wedding ceremony and feast. For the past two days, elves busied themselves hanging decorations, planning the feast and anything else that needed tending to. The tables were pushed together lining each side of the hall and covered with white cloth. Strategically placed bouquets of beautiful lilies centered each table. At the end of the hall was a dais. Usually there was a long table sitting upon it, reserved for a guest of honor and his company, but now it was decorated with huge urns filled with colorful pastel flower arrangements. Ornate lanterns made of silver hung from the ceiling on each side of the aisle leading to the dais. Pale green silk ribbons hung down from the lanterns and dusty pink ribbons draped in a crisscross fashion between them. Floral garland draped across archways and over the doors of the hall. Pink rose petals littered the center aisle ready to welcome the feet of the bride and groom. A variety of spring flowers sweetened the air of the hall, helping to put everyone in a carefree mood, just right for such an occasion.

The guests were already seated and waiting for the couple to enter. They talked quietly amongst each other. Family and friends gathered for the special day. It was a small group of guests, unusual for an elvish wedding, but the way Feredir and Terrwyn wanted it. Among them sat Horphen and his family, some of Feredir’s friends and a few new friends of Terrwyn’s. The soldier from the healing house was there, now a newly recruited border guard, and beside him sat the maiden who stayed by his side as his leg healed. A few other patients that Terrwyn had treated and befriended had come to enjoy the celebration as well. Everyone waited with anticipation for the arrival of the happy couple.

Lanterns were lit, flickering above the colorful hall. The feast was ready in the kitchens, as a small group of servers waited for the signal from the head cook. Musicians played softly, entertaining the guests until it was time for the wedding to begin. Everything was ready. Now the only thing missing was the bride and groom.

* * *

Outside of the hall doors was a large vestibule. There was a room on each side, used for different reasons depending on the occasion. Today they were being used as dressing rooms. Terrwyn’s was on the right where she and Irneth finished getting ready. Feredir and Orthorien were in the room to the left. When it was time, they would exit their rooms and meet in the waiting area. This would give them a chance to see each other before all of the guests. For now, they were separated in their personal rooms putting on their final attire and making last minute adjustments.

“I feel like there was so much more I should have done in the preparations,” Terrwyn said nervously. The day of the wedding was finally here and she was realizing that she had hardly lifted a finger.

“This is the way it should be. You are the bride and this is your day. Others have seen that everything was taken care of,” Irneth informed her. “Now turn around so that I can lace you into your dress. While I do, say your vows again.” Terrwyn did as she said and recited them perfectly, her elvish sounding very authentic. Irneth smiled and continued. “Now remember, it is only you and Feredir up there. Do not think twice about everyone watching. Concentrate on your groom. Look deep within his eyes. Let the rest of the world melt away and you will be just fine.”

Terrwyn smiled. That should not be a difficult thing to do. Feredir always had a way of making her forget about her surroundings when his silver eyes captured her. “I don’t know why I am nervous. We are already bound, Feredir and I.”

“Bound yes, but not blessed,” Irneth corrected. “This ceremony will complete the process of marriage. You are promised to each other by the joining of your souls, but now your union will be recognized by the higher powers.” As Irneth spoke, she finished lacing the corset and placed a delicate wreath of tiny flowers upon Terrwyn’s head. She rearranged some of her red hair and took a step back to admire her work. “Well, that should be it,” Irneth sighed.

“Now what?” Terrwyn asked shakily.

“Now we wait for someone to come tell you it’s time.” Irneth hugged Terrwyn. “I am so glad we have gotten to know each other. I consider you one of my closest friends. Ai,” she sighed. “And you and Feredir are a perfect match. You have both endured so much and somehow managed to find one another. It is definitely a blessed union.”

“Thank you for all your help, Irneth. You don’t know what it means to me to have you, your kindness, your patience. You have taught me so much,” Terrwyn replied.

“You are a beautiful Rohirric woman, but you are an even lovelier elf. Embrace it and let it fill your heart and soul.”

A tear escaped Terrwyn’s eye. “I think I have always sensed it. I just never understood what it was. Where there was empty space before is now filled with new understanding. I am proud to be made up of both worlds.”

The friends held each other, laughing and crying at the same time and just enjoying these moments together.

Meanwhile, Feredir and Orthorien were across the hall in the groom’s quarters. The dark haired elf seemed just as nervous as Terrwyn.

“Is Mother already inside the hall?” Feredir asked, checking things over in his mind one last time.

“Yes,” Orthorien answered as he adjusted the collar of Feredir’s Ithilien guardsman uniform. It had been specially delivered by his special guest, Hathmund, who arrived in secret just the day before and not a moment too soon. “Everyone is there and waiting,” Orthorien confirmed.

“And what about Terrwyn? Is she alright? I worry for her. She is still learning our customs. She must be so nervous by now. Maybe I should have spoken to her once more before--.”

“I do not think it is Terrwyn you should be worried about. Listen to yourself.” Orthorien grasped Feredir   
by the shoulders. “You sound as if you are not already married and you are seeing her for the first time.”

“Binding was the easy part,” Feredir joked anxiously. “There was not a room full of people watching us.”

Orthorien laughed at the thought and held his tongue as a thousand smart remarks entered his mind. Instead, he spoke sincerely to Feredir, knowing he needed his support right now. “Breathe deep and relax, brother. You will see Terrwyn in a moment and soon this marriage will be blessed as it was meant to be. Just enjoy it, Feredir. You will only have this moment, this one time in your life. Take it all in. Let its magic fill you.” It was an unusual moment for Orthorien. He tended to stay clear of these kinds of blessing events, but this was different. This was his brother.

Feredir felt his sincerity. “Thank you Orthorien.”

“And if that doesn’t work,” the golden warrior continued, “then think about what is to come later after the guests leave and you are alone with your wife.” He couldn’t help giving at least one brassy comment before they were through.

“It always turns to sex doesn’t it?” Feredir said and lightly punched Orthorien in the arm as they laughed together. The laughing stopped abruptly when there was a knock on the door.

“It is time. Come see your bride,” said a servant from outside the room.

Feredir took a deep breath. Orthorien clasped arms with him and they shared one more brotherly moment. “You have finally come into your own, brother,” he boasted, but then he paused and shook his head, his tone turning serious but gentle. “No, that is not right. You have always been your own. You have always known who you are. You are my equal … an elf, a man … and someone who I am very proud of.”

Feredir looked into his brothers eyes for as long as he could and then glanced down at their joined forearms. “Thank you, Orthorien.” His reply was simple, but it held everything he needed to say.

Orthorien bowed and opened the door for Feredir. “Come,” he said with a warm smile and both elves exited the room.

* * *

A knock sounded on the bride’s door and both females jumped. Irneth smiled wide. “That’s the signal. Are you ready to have this marriage blessed?”

Terrwyn closed her eyes and breathed in deep, letting it slowly out and calming her nerves. She opened them and a new light seemed to shine within them. “There was a time that I thought I would never celebrate a day like today. I’ve learned to never take anything for granted. I am going to savor each and every moment. I am ready.” Irneth opened the door and followed Terrwyn into the waiting area.

Both parties exited their rooms at the same time. Terrwyn looked across the way and her breath caught as she gazed upon the most wondrous sight. There he stood--her elf--dressed in full Ithilien guardsman uniform. The white tree of Gondor glowed in contrast to the black of his coat. The high collar made him look taller somehow, or maybe it was his straight stance. Feredir’s usually wild black mane was neatly smoothed and brushed, kept from his face allowing her to see all of his masculine features, strong square jaw, high cheekbones, deep set eyes that shone silver like the stars beneath his dark brows. Ebony pants tucked into newly polished black boots and at his side hung his sword. It too had been polished and flashed in the light of the room. Feredir was magnificent to behold, a true warrior in every sense of the word, a proud elf and a resilient man.

Feredir breathed deep as his eyes fell upon Terrwyn. There was no one more beautiful. The red waves that usually fell across her face were bound with green ribbon and tied back at the sides. The flowery circlet upon her head helped keep it all in place. Her eyes sparkled across the room, peridot jewels glimmering in the dancing flame of a nearby lantern. The neat curls of her long hair cascaded over her bare shoulders and along her porcelain skin. Feredir’s eyes went lower, admiring her small waist accentuated by the dresses tight corset. The dress was a beautiful pale green with golden leaf accents. Never before had he seen Terrwyn in anything so becoming. She looked like a princess and for a moment, he wondered if he was deserving enough of someone so delicate and breathtaking. Another look into her eyes calmed him immediately as her love for him floated across the distance.

With Irneth walking beside Terrwyn and Orthorien beside Feredir, the couples met in the middle of the room. The two escorts backed away to let them have this next moment together.

“You look so beautiful, Naru. More than that … if I could find the right words … but it seems they have all escaped me. I have fallen in love with you all over again.”

Terrwyn blushed, but she never dropped her gaze. “You are absolutely the most handsome creature on this earth,” she smiled. Then she glanced at his attire. “How did you get your uniform? I thought it was left behind in Rohan.”

He smiled in that way that said he was up to something. “I had it personally delivered by one of your kinsmen.”

She looked at him curiously. “What, someone from Rohan … here?”

“You’ll see,” he said smartly and leaned down to kiss her forehead. Then he held his arm out to her. “Are you ready, Terrwyn?”

“Since the moment I first laid eyes on you,” she answered dreamily as she wrapped her arm around his. They stared into each other’s eyes a moment more before Feredir nodded to the door attendants who ushered them into the hall.

Immediately, the sweet fragrance of flowers filled the air around them as the sound of a harp’s delicate song called them forward. A lute and a reed pipe entered the song as the other minstrels joined in announcing the arrival of the celebrated couple. All eyes turned to the doorway as gasps and ah’s flowed through the hall on a wave of emotion. The guests stood from their chairs and waited for the ceremony to begin.

Feredir took the lead and squeezed his arm around Terrwyn’s, gesturing for her to begin their walk to the dais. They strolled slowly down the aisle, smiling to the guests on either side of them, recognizing faces as they went. There was one person that Terrwyn did not expect to see and her heart swelled slightly as she looked upon Master Remlas sitting close to the back of the room. He merely nodded, but she could have sworn she saw the corner of his lips curl into what she considered a smile from the impassive old elf.

When Feredir and Terrwyn were halfway down the aisle, Orthorien offered Irneth his arm, as was proper at such ceremonies. She took it, but kept a stiff stance as the sly elf pulled her closer to him, his fingers moving dangerously close to the side of her breast. “Try anything tonight, Orthorien, and I will have your balls handed to me on a silver platter,” she said through clenched teeth and a smile.

The golden elf had known Irneth for many years and had always enjoyed watching her squirm. “Don’t flatter yourself. Besides, I have my sights set on something a little … spicier,” he commented as they entered the hall. His eyes left Irneth and fell upon an extremely gorgeous elleth sitting at the end of the long table. She had the smoothest skin Irneth had ever seen, dark almond shaped eyes, full pouting lips, long straight copper hair and an uncommon exotic demeanor. This elleth seemed rare, not from any of the surrounding realms. Irneth had personally composed the guest list and could not remember this elf being on it. As a matter of fact, she could not remember ever having seen this elf at all. The raving beauty looked at Orthorien and smiled lustfully, pursing her lips and then running her tongue along her pearly white teeth.

Irneth focused on the wedded couple, now almost to the dais, and whispered out of the corner of her mouth. “I don’t think she is a guest of either the bride or the groom.”

“She is my guest,” Orthorien answered. “I did not think one more would matter. Besides, we shall not be attending the feast for very long. We have … other plans.”

Irneth gave the mystery elleth one more sidelong glance and whispered. “I must say, you have surely outdone yourself this time, Orthorien. She is absolutely … stunning.” Unscrupulous, promiscuous, immorally shameless … these words fit her description much better, Irneth thought to herself. Suddenly she was shocked that she even cared.

Orthorien gave a quick wink to the elleth, who eyes flamed with desire. “She is one of Cirdan’s kin, come from Lindon to escort the next company of elves to the Grey Havens. She has not seen much outside of her seaside town. I am just fulfilling my duties and giving her a proper Mirkwood welcome.” Another sly smile spread across his face.

“I know all about your hospitality. Knowing you, she will never want to leave Eryn Lasgalen and those leaving for the shore will be without an escort,” Irneth whispered as they continued the long slow walk to the dais.

“Oh, I will send her on her way promptly and then maybe you will want to fill her place,” Orthorien teased, but she stiffened and he sensed her animosity. “Come now, Irneth, you are not still peeved over our past are you? That was so long ago and I hoped that you would have put that behind you by now.”

Irneth knew what he was doing. Deciding it was better not to play into his shameless flirting, she gave him no answer and looked straight ahead, ignoring him until they arrived at their reserved seats. Orthorien released Irneth’s arm and the couple politely bowed to one another. Irneth whispered before they parted to opposite sides of the hall. “I may forgive, but I don’t forget, and as far as a replacement … only in your dreams.” Her voice was cool and collected. 

Orthorien gave her a fiery glance, his golden eyes dancing with mirth at the thought of her playing his game. “Oh, my dear Irneth, I have not forgotten either and it is ever in my dreams,” he answered getting the last word before they took their seats and brought their attention back to the moment at hand. Irneth squirmed and vowed not to speak to him for the remainder of the evening … Valar willing.

Feredir led Terrwyn up the two short steps that made the dais. They turned to each other. Feredir bowed to her and she curtsied, their eyes never parting from one another. Then they turned to their guests and waited for the elves who would say the blessings. Usually the father of the groom and the mother of the bride would perform this part of the ceremony, but in this case, both parties were deceased. Instead, Feredir’s mother approached the couple and stood by her son. She smiled at him proudly and waited for the other elf to come to the altar. Terrwyn had been told that King Thranduil would do this for her, something that completely surprised her. She had only met him briefly a time or two, but he had known of her close friendship with his son Legolas and felt obliged to represent Terrwyn for this blessed day.

Just as she was told, King Thranduil approached the couple, looking most regal indeed. He always looked like a king, Terrwyn thought, but today he was dressed in all of his royal garb, a long dark green robe lined in gold, white tunic and leggings and a silver circlet upon his head. He took Terrwyn’s hand and lightly kissed her knuckles. “I know I am supposed to ask for your blessings today, but it seems there is someone else here who has outranked me,” he said with a warm smile.

Confused, Terrwyn looked at the King and cocked her head questioningly. Who could outrank a king in his own land? Thranduil stepped to the side and Terrwyn looked past him. Her heart caught in her throat and suddenly she understood what Feredir was telling her earlier about a special delivery.

“Hathmund,” she cried and tears immediately sprang to the corners of her eyes. Her brother rushed to her and scooped her up in his arms.

“Terrwyn, you look more beautiful every time I see you,” he spoke in her ear.

“Oh dear brother, I have missed you so much. I can’t believe you are here, but how did you--?”

“Feredir wrote to me asking if I would make the journey to Eryn Lasgalen and King Thranduil approved my invitation. I would not have missed this day for the world. I had always hoped that I could be the one to give you away, or in this case, ask for your marital blessings,” Hathmund answered.

Terrwyn released her brother and looked to Feredir. “This is already the most special day of my life, but now it is perfect. Thank you, Feredir.”

“Let us proceed with the blessings,” Thranduil announced to the guests. Feredir and Terrwyn took their places as well as Laveth and Hathmund, facing out over the filled hall. Then the wedded couple turned to each other and slipped their silver rings from their fingers.

Laveth moved to stand between them and started the blessings, speaking in Sindarin. “May Varda look upon this marriage and bless Feredir and Terrwyn with eternal love. May she keep them and this binding safe from all darkness for life eternal.” She then kissed each one upon the cheek and returned to Feredir’s side.

Next, Hathmund moved around and came between the couple. To Terrwyn’s surprise, he began speaking slowly in Sindarin and she wondered how he learned so quickly. “May Manwe look upon this marriage and bless Terrwyn and Feredir with eternal strength. May he give them and this binding the stability to cast down all darkness for life eternal.” Hathmund kissed his sister upon her forehead and then grasped forearms with Feredir before he took his place at Terrwyn’s side once more.

Now the couple closed the distance between them. Feredir took his silver ring and handed it to Terrwyn. “I return to you my silver ring to have as a symbol of my promise to you.” Laveth handed him the small golden ring that he had chosen months earlier. He took Terrwyn’s right hand and slowly slid the golden ring onto her index finger. “I give you this golden ring as a symbol of my commitment to you, to this marriage and to your soul eternal.” The ring fit perfectly and he admired it upon her finger. He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. “Terrwyn, I thought I knew what living meant, but until I met you I realized I had not a clue. You are in everything I do. You are my next breath. You are the next beat of my heart. Not a moment goes by that you are not on my thoughts. I live for no one but you. Because of you, I know what it means to belong and without you, I would be lost. I love you, Naru with all of my heart, from deep within my soul and for all eternity.”

Terrwyn swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed back the tears that threatened to fall. She took her silver ring, handing it to Feredir. “I return to you my silver ring to have as a symbol of my promise to you.” Hathmund handed her the grooms gold ring and she took up Feredir’s right hand, slipping the ring upon his index finger. “I give you this golden ring as a symbol of my commitment to you, to this marriage and to your soul eternal,” she recited just as he had. Then she took a deep breath and continued. “Feredir, I used to dream of a day like this, of a love like ours. There is such a sense of security in knowing that I no longer have to dream. I live it every day that you are by my side. You have given me your strength when I could not stand on my own. You have given me hope when I could not see my tomorrow. There has never been a time that I could not feel your love for you give it unconditionally. It is because of your strength and love that I no longer fear who I am. You fill my soul and I am complete. I trust you and I love you. I am devoted to you and now it is my turn to be your strength, your hope. My life, my spirit, my entire being belongs to you, Feredir with all of my heart, from deep within and for all eternity.”

 

The couple smiled at each other as Thranduil stepped forward. “This marriage has been blessed. It is the wish of these people before you, of those who dwell in Eryn Lasgalen and of all the elves in Arda that your lives together remain happy, committed and fruitful. Go forth into the world with the blessings of the Valar and of Eru Iluvatar.” He turned to the guests with his arms outstretched. “It is indeed a most joyous day and cause for splendid celebration. Let the feast begin.”

The hall broke out into cheering and clapping as they watched Feredir take Terrwyn into his arms, dip her backwards slightly and kiss her. The sounds of laughter and joy seemed to disappear as the couple surrendered to each other. Feredir released her, his fingers lightly grazing her cheek. The warmth of his skin traveled through her and Terrwyn was captured by him. He smiled and met her eyes. “This, Naru … this is what it means to be bound.” Before she could speak, he grabbed her by the waist, lifted her feet off the ground and spun her around. They laughed as they were caught up in the moment. And when he set her feet back on the floor, their eyes caught once again. Slowly they came together, lips upon lips, the closeness of their bodies sending sparks between them.

The blissful couple was interrupted by the King as he cleared his throat. Terrwyn blushed when she saw Thranduil’s raised eyebrows. Then he smiled warmly. “This is what I like most about these ceremonies. The love emanates outward and all revel in the joy, but I must say, the strength and enthusiasm of your commitment is quite intoxicating. Now, let us feast, drink and dance.”

Feeling everything Thranduil just mentioned Terrwyn’s heart was bursting. She turned once more to Feredir before they took their seats. “This is what it means to be an elf. I feel it surfacing, Feredir, as if my blood is separating, the elvish life force rising above the human.”

“You are home, my love,” he said before ushering her to their table.

“I am home because I have you.” she replied with a smile. Cupping his face, she gave her husband another kiss. Then they took their seats and awaited the feast.


	67. On With the Celebration

With the blessing ceremony accomplished, it was time for the feast, the most anticipated part of the celebration. As soon as the bride and groom took to their chairs, doors on either side of the hall burst open and out poured a parade of elvish servants, all dressed in their finest uniforms. Each one carried a silver tray upon their shoulder. Like a well-rehearsed dance, they went to their assigned spots along the long tables and waited until the last elf was in place. In unison, the servants carefully placed the trays on the tables. The guest’s eyes grew wide as they observed the fine choice of succulent meats that had been well prepared for the occasion. Suckling pig, roast venison and pheasant filled each platter, still steaming and smelling absolutely delectable. The guests helped themselves to the feast while the empty-handed servants returned through the doors. Just as soon as the last one disappeared, a new set of servants came out carrying a silver bowl in each hand. They too went to their respected places and waited until they were all ready before setting their delicacies down along the two tables. Steamed vegetables were in one bowl and an assortment of breads were in the other. Small honey pots were already placed on the tables earlier and some of the guests started drizzling the sweet treat on their bread.

Finally, the last group of servants filtered from the side doors holding large carafes of deep burgundy wine. The guests applauded, for this was what they all waited for. The wine was the King’s best, saved for visiting lords, strict negotiations and blessing events such as this. Dorwinion wine was a favorite of the wood elves and rightly so by its rich spicy flavor and the warm after affect it caused. No one would leave disappointed tonight.

Terrwyn and Feredir sat at their own table decorated with the same flower arrangements and ribbons, arranged at the head of the hall where the other guests could see them. Two servants brought them trays and bowls of all the fine foods being served, though smaller portions. Neither had realized just how famished they were until the fragrance of their bounty wafted to their noses. Feredir went first, pinching a bit tender venison between his fingers. As he brought it to his mouth, Terrwyn stopped him.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she protested, waving her finger at him. “I made a vow to take care of you.” She took the meat from his hand and brought it to his mouth. “And I mean to do so starting now.” He allowed her to feed him, but captured her wrist before she could pull it away. There was an all too familiar fire in those silver eyes as he seductively sucked on each of her fingers.

“I could get used to this,” he growled. Then he leaned towards her and kissed her. She tasted the salted meat upon his lips and her stomach answered in protest. Feredir laughed and began filling her plate with an array of the different foods. “Eat Naru. Your stomach speaks for you.”

She laughed as she looked down at her overflowing plate. There was no possible way she could eat all of this, no matter how hungry she was. Then she looked at Feredir’s plate, filled just as full. He seemed like he would have no trouble at all finishing every last bite.

One of the servants came back carrying two goblets of wine and set them in front of their plates. Feredir seemed not to notice as he was devouring his roasted quail voraciously. She smiled and thanked the servant then picked up her glass, drinking heartily. As soon as she swallowed, she choked, not expecting the strong flavor. “Much different . . . from the wines in Gondor . . . isn’t it?”

“This is Dorwinion wine. Drink slowly and only take small sips or I shall have to carry you from the hall and put you to bed before the dancing commences. It is very strong, Naru,” he informed her.

Well, he could have warned her first had he not been so focused on his plate. Terrwyn, of course would not have him thinking she was weak. “I am an elf. I think I can handle my liquor,” she teased.

Feredir nodded. “I am an elf too, but even I am not immune to the King’s best vintage. Trust me, small sips and pace yourself with that poison.” He looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. “I will not have my wife drunk in our bed this evening, unable to remember all of the things I plan on doing to you tonight.”

Terrwyn cocked an eyebrow. “A few more sips of this,” she said holding her glass up to him. “And I think you will be the one who is helpless.”

Feredir picked up his goblet and clinked it with hers as if they were toasting. “Then by all means, Naru drink up,” he laughed.

* * *

Meanwhile, Horphen was busy acquainting himself with the young maiden he had invited. She was quite informative about the meal, stating how she had been involved with the preparations. Horphen gave her his attention as she described the different types of flour used to make the assorted breads on the table. After a while, he lost track of what she was saying as his wandering mind drifted to her cleavage. She may have been a maiden, but her provocative attire said otherwise. That mixed with the effects of the wine was making Horphen a bit zealous. His attention drifted back to her conversation, now turned to the preparing of the suckling pig, which seemed to have been slaughtered by her brother. Oh, by her much older, overprotective brother, she informed him. Horphen started to reconsider his intentions with the pretty young elleth. It seemed that she was not looking for someone to gently and respectfully introduce her to womanhood, but rather a courtship that would eventually turn to an evening like this one. Horphen had dodged enough arrows from angry fathers to know better than to pursue anything further with this one. He was not ready for such a commitment and felt no desire to do so with her, no matter how firm and ripe her breasts looked in that dress. However, Horphen was an elf of honor and he would not abandon her to search for a willing partner. He would finish out the evening pretending to be interested in her experience as a cook. He hoped that she would not go into as much detail about the preparing of the quail as she has with the suckling pig. After learning more than he wanted about gutting and such, Horphen filled his plate with a variety of vegetables instead.

* * *

After everyone had their fill, the minstrels took up their places on the dais, picked up their instruments, gave each other a nod and started playing softly. The servants came out and started clearing the tables of plates and trays. They replaced empty wine carafes with full ones and set out clean goblets. A low murmur filled the hall as the guests turned from feasting to conversation. They left their confined spaces at the tables and began roaming around the hall gathering in small groups and continuing their discussions. 

If there was one thing that Terrwyn learned this evening, it was that elvish weddings and human ones had one similarity. The guests did not like to see the bride and groom in close proximity with each other for too long at any one time. She had thought this was going to be her first dance with her husband, but was mistaken when a group of well-wishers surrounded them, young elf men and women who had been looking for the opportunity to speak with them thus far. Like a rolling wave, Feredir and Terrwyn were swallowed up and divided apart, the elf women pulling Terrwyn in one direction and the elf men leading Feredir the opposite way. Terrwyn was feeling a bit overwhelmed and glanced back at Feredir who smiled and shrugged his shoulders as the couple was swept further apart from each other.

“Feredir,” she called to him slightly nervous.

He made a shooing motion with his hands. “It’s alright, Naru. They are just curious. We will dance later.”

She turned back to her audience, suddenly bombarded by a deluge of questions.

“Lady Terrwyn, Lady Terrwyn,” the youthful ellith all said in unison, each one trying to gain her attention.

“My, you are an enthusiastic bunch aren’t you?” she laughed.

“We apologize, my lady.” One of the youth took it upon herself to speak for the rest. She was a pretty elf dressed in light blue silk to match her eyes. Her golden hair was braided and pulled back at the sides. Terrwyn could see the innocence in her eyes. She had not yet reached her majority. “We have known of your residence here for a while, but did not feel it was our place to approach you. We have seen how busy you are with the Master healer and the wedding preparations. Some of us do not speak your language either. We are truly intrigued by you and your story and we were wondering . . .” Suddenly the elleth seemed at a loss for words. She blushed slightly and looked down at her tightly clasped hands. Terrwyn waited for her to find her voice again, but another one in the group took over for the elf in blue.

“My lady, we were wondering about your kinsmen -- the Rohirrim. You see, we have not been outside of the borders of our home and have not met many strangers. Since you have arrived, we cannot help but wonder about other countries, especially those of Men.” This elf was more forward and seemed a bit older than the others or maybe less worried about being outspoken.

“Maybe it would help if you told me what it is you know of Rohan,” Terrwyn responded politely.

A third elleth who resembled the one in blue quite prominently, decided to make her voice heard. “We only know what we have been told by our elders, that your men are barbaric and enjoy killing and war. But some of the soldiers that fought with them during the battle at Helm’s Deep say they are great warriors and fight bravely for their country. They say that they are the tallest and strongest of the race of men and show their brawn quite flagrantly. We have never seen the like, but they intrigue us.” As she finished speaking, the elleth seemed to blush slightly.

Terrwyn smiled now that she understood their curiosity. “The men of Rohan are very proud of their country. They do not go seeking battles to prove their strength though. On the contrary, we are a peaceful people, but like the hornet’s nest, provoke the colony and they will attack. They uphold their women with the greatest respect and are loving fathers.”

“And are so very muscular,” interrupted a new voice amongst the small group.

Terrwyn laughed. “Yes, I guess you are right.” Obviously, they were more interested in her compatriots’ robust physique rather than the love of their country. 

A discussion broke out amongst the elf women about just how muscular Rohirric men were and how they got that way. Terrwyn listened to the buzz of chatter that surrounded her. While they were distracted, she looked over to where Feredir stood with the group of elf men, finding him in just as deep of a discussion as she had been.

“We hear that some of the Rohirric women are trained to fight just like the men,” said a young ellon with dark blond waves. “They are just as fierce as the men.”

Feredir laughed to himself at their curiosity. “Well, not all of their women are trained in this way, but I would not want to cross the ones that are.”

A dark haired lithe formed youth spoke next. “Is the Lady Terrwyn trained as such?”

“She has had no formal training, but she can hold her own in a fight. Do not let her small frame and delicateness fool you. That can be said of any of Rohan’s women. They are most proud of their land and its people. The men protect them, but the women do fine on their own when the men are away. They must since they are the ones left to see to the children and their estates. It is not so easy a life out on the open plains of the Riddermark.”

“I would not mind being challenged by one of their Shieldmaidens. I think it would be most alluring to duel with one of them, to feel her strength,” said the same dark haired youth.

“Or to be trapped beneath one of them,” said his friend with the golden waves. His blue eyes ignited, as he seemed to imagine it.

“Well, in that case she would no longer be considered a Shield . . . maiden now would she?” Feredir answered and suddenly the whole group quieted to consider this. Then they began discussing exactly what the word Shieldmaiden meant and whether only maidens could be amongst their assembly. The talk took a turn when the group of young ellyn began to debate the placement of certain weapons upon the Rohirric women’s person, whether they kept their smaller knives in their boot or strapped to their leg. The mention of women’s thighs led to other mischievous topics. They became distracted just enough that Feredir was able to slip away before they drew him in for more questioning. 

Seeing that Feredir was free of his company, the minstrels switched from the soft background music they were currently playing, to something more romantic. The dark elf strolled over to where Terrwyn was being held captive by the young elf women and interrupted. “If you do not mind, I would like to have a dance with my wife.” His voice was charming and polite, making the ellith giggle and break apart so Terrwyn could be with her love. He offered her is hand, palm up and she accepted with a bright smile. As he was about to whisk her away she caught a glimpse of Hathmund sitting at a table, alone and watching the wood elves gather in groups instead of joining in with them. He seemed out of place and he probably felt the same. A bit of mischievousness came over Terrwyn and she called to the group of elf women.

“If you would like to know more, might I suggest speaking with my brother? You would certainly learn more from him than me since he is a man of Rohan.”

The elf women all turned their heads together to see a very handsome, sun kissed, muscular man sitting with one hand on his wine goblet and the other resting in his lap as he watched the festivities continue around him. Terrwyn giggled to herself and did not wait to see what would happen next, allowing Feredir to lead her to the dance floor situated at the foot of the dais.

“And what was that all about?” he questioned.

“Oh, I’m just trying to introduce Hathmund to elvish culture is all,” she smiled slyly. “Now where were we?”

“I was about to have a first dance with my wife,” he said as he bowed to her. Terrwyn followed his cue and curtsied, the soft green silk of her skirts sweeping across the floor. Their eyes met and his hands went to her waist, pulling her close. The stiffness of his uniform’s coat gave her a shivering thrill of enjoyment as she pressed against him. He looked so handsome in his guardsman attire and she was imaging how fun it would be to peel him out of it.

He twirled her around, releasing her waist and taking her hand. Just before she got away from him, he pulled her back and captured her with his arm. Their faces only an inch apart, Feredir moved to kiss her. At the last second, Terrwyn released herself from his grip, twirling away from him again. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back, repeating the same motion as before. This time he held her in his strong grip and dipped her so she was helpless and could not get away from him. “Are you happy, my love?” Feredir whispered.

“Completely happy.” Terrwyn closed her eyes and gave in to him, allowing him to have control over her. He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers. She was powerless in his arms, surrendering to his kiss that deepened every second that passed. Just when she thought they would disappear from the world around them, Feredir pulled her up slowly, demonstrating his elvish strength as he made her feel weightless. Terrwyn smiled and put her arms around his neck. She found herself lost in his silver stare, just as she had long ago in the old abandoned forest of North Ithilien. Nothing had changed since then except for the fact that she had no doubt she was hopelessly in love with him.

* * *

While the bride and groom shared their first dance together, Irneth sat with her sisters and listened to them talk of their relationships. Her oldest sister, Seldes was betrothed now, after a yearlong courtship. Hers would be the next wedding celebration in Eryn Lasgalen in less than a month and she was very excited. Avorniel was second in line as a sister and for marriage having just recently accepted a courtship. Irneth, youngest of the sisters, was unattached and not even close to needing an ellon in her life right now. She was on a list of students hoping to train at the palace as a scribe and had recently been chosen. It was her dream to become the mistress of record keeping, but as with any employment, there were many levels to achieve first. An invitation to study and learn at the palace was the first step in reaching her goal. She fought hard and studied long to get to this point. The last thing she was worried about was settling down with a husband.

As if on cue, the empty chair next to her slid out from the table and Orthorien sat down, uninvited. Irneth cringed and stiffened at his closeness. She had good reason to.

For many years, Irneth had managed to keep a considerable amount of distance between her and Orthorien. It was true that they had a past, though it was short lived, but what happened between them was sudden and fiery with a complete lack of will power on her part. Orthorien brought out a side of Irneth that she did not know existed, but she was not sure she wanted to experience it again. He held some kind of intense power over her that made her forget all of her inhibitions. In the heat of the moment, it was one of the most exquisite things she’d ever experienced, but the after effects of an ellon as charming as Orthorien were quite damaging to someone like Irneth. He liked to play his games, liked his women to play along and she thought she could, but he did not play fair and in the end she resented him and her choice to allow him to do this to her. That was when she vowed never to let him influence her again.

Irneth stayed away from Orthorien as best she could and it worked for a very long time … until Feredir and Terrwyn asked them to be participants in their special day, assistants whose job it was to serve the bride and groom. Irneth wanted to decline Terrwyn’s offer, but she could not let her new friend down. She prepared herself for this day, knowing she would be in close proximity with Orthorien. She had built a sturdy wall around her, one that she hoped he could not tear down. Now, here he was up to his old tricks, using her sisters to soften her up.

Orthorien gave the sisters one of his most charming smiles and all conversations came to a halt. Seldes and Avorniel looked at him with blank faces, waiting for him to speak. Usually, some smart comment was the first thing to leave his lips, and so they waited silently. When it seemed that the sisters would not speak first, Orthorien chuckled to himself and started the conversation.

“It seems congratulations are in order, Seldes. Horphen told me about your betrothal.” He was of course being overly kind in tone. “And to you also Avorniel for your recent courtship,” he added.

“Thank you Orthorien. Your kindness has been duly noted,” answered Seldes sarcastically.

Irneth felt his attention shift to her, felt his eyes burning into her flesh and cringed as she wondered what he was up to. “And more praise to you Irneth, for securing a place in the palace as one of Eryn Lasgalen’s highest ranking students to have been chosen for apprenticeship with the scribes. That is quite an impressive accomplishment.”

Slightly taken aback by his unusually courteous behavior, Irneth smiled and nodded. “Thank you Orthorien. I worked hard for that position.” Maybe years of being a warrior had changed him, matured him somehow. One could only hope.

Orthorien leaned in and his hot breath grazed her shoulder as he whispered so only she could hear. “I know of another position and you would only need to work as intensely as you cared to.”

Alas, it was too good to be true after all. Still the same salacious ellon as he was in his youth, she thought to herself as she shook her head. The sound of a hammer slamming against brick rattled through her subconscious, but her wall was holding steady.

Seldes and Avorniel did not hear his lewd comment, but regarded him with a steely glare. Just then, their men approached and pulled them to the dance floor, leaving Irneth alone with Orthorien. She made a mental check and quickly repaired the damage done to her barrier. Today she would refuse to let him get under her skin, for the day was not about them. It was about Feredir and Terrwyn and carrying out their duties as the couples close friend and family. Besides, Orthorien was here with someone … someone much more beautiful who could not doubt satisfy his appetite. He was only trying to engage her in another one of his games, but she would not play. Ignoring Orthorien’s last comment, she looked around the room hoping to find this other elleth so she could direct his attention away from her and onto his chosen plaything. Just then, Irneth saw a flash of copper from somewhere over her shoulder and craned her neck to see Orthorien’s companion seething by the desserts table. It seemed his attention on Irneth had not gone unnoticed by the attractive elleth from Lindon. Irneth returned Orthorien’s arrogant smile with one of her own. “It may be in your best interest to return to your date. I am sensing a bit of jealousy coming from the far end of the hall.”

Orthorien turned in the direction that Irneth was looking and flashed one of his sexy smiles to the aggravated elleth. She bit her lip and gave a little wiggle of her hips in response. It was enough to quell her jealousy while he finished speaking with Irneth. “I am just testing her. She seemed a bit enthusiastic when I asked her to join me today. I don’t want to give her any false hopes. You know how . . .” He paused to find the right word. “. . . emotional you women get at these binding ceremonies.”

Irneth rolled her eyes and turned away, only to find one of the minstrels eyeing the exotic seaside elf from across the room. He was the owner of the reed pipe and was not currently needed for this song selection. Irneth could tell it was not the first time the musician had spotted the copper haired elleth and now she was unguarded while Orthorien was busy torturing Irneth. “I suspect she might be in someone else’s future,” she jested, nodding towards the musician.

Orthorien made a quick observation, then gave Irneth that cavalier half smile that made her want to choke him, completely ignoring the flirting between his date and the reed player. “Promise me a dance later and I will leave you in peace.” He did not seem the least bit concerned about his date, who was now speaking with the flautist and batting her eyelashes.

Irneth panicked a bit. She knew if the sea elf was swept away by another, Orthorien would pester her for the remainder of the evening. “Really Orthorien, you came with someone else. I do not find it at all proper to dance with me when you have that gorgeous creature to--.” 

“If I invited her here solely as my dance partner, we would already be out there.” He gestured towards the dance floor where other couples swayed to the soft music. “But that is not what interests her.” He watched as the exotic elleth caught Orthorien observing her shameless behavior with the reed player and then shot him and Irneth a murderous glare.

Irneth felt as though she were caught in the middle of some strange jealously match and deciding this was enough, stood from the table. “Nothing has changed about you, Orthorien. I will not let you drag me into your twisted game. Please, just leave me alone.” She spoke in a quiet voice, serious about her decision and making it very clear that she would not fall prey to his advances anymore.

Orthorien had never seen Irneth this way before. When he first met her so long ago and in their youth, she succumbed to him so easily. Now, she showed him her maturity, something he realized he was lacking with her. He grabbed her arm gently to keep her from walking away. “I’m sorry, Irneth. I meant no harm. I only wanted to dance with you, just one dance and I will leave you alone.”

He sounded so sincere, unusual for Orthorien. Irneth could not help but think he was up to no good. Still, one dance was all he asked for and then he promised to leave her alone. That could not be so bad, but then again it was with Orthorien. Clank … clank … clank went the sound of a hammer chipping away at her wall. He was trying to render her powerless again, but she knew better now.

“Alright fine, one dance and that is all,” she answered quickly. Damnit, she cursed to herself.

Orthorien took her hand and kissed it, lips lingering over her knuckles, soft demanding lips. “I will seek you for that dance later.” He bowed to his current company and went directly to the musicians who had just finished playing a slow romantic melody for the bride and groom. He spoke to the leader of the bunch and smiled with his usual charm, requesting a song he was sure could not be played without a reed player. The bandleader nodded and called to the absent minstrel, who left the Lindon elleth and rushed towards the stage. Orthorien returned to his date and was greeted with a look of annoyance. A quick whisper and a gentle kiss to elleth’s cheek seemed to be enough to soothe her mood and all seemed to be forgiven. He took her hand and led her to a table in a secluded corner.

Irneth watched the scene play out and shook her head, laughing to herself. “Nicely done,” she said quietly. As much as he irritated her, she could not help but notice how confident he was. Orthorien had always been that way. Strangely enough, she liked that about him. It was one of the things that attracted her to him when they were younger, before she found out who he really was, a draug, a wolf.

Irneth pulled herself from thoughts and returned to her table, but gasped when she saw Seldes and Avorniel looking at her accusingly, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, chastising her with their hard stares. They had finished their dance and returned to their seats only to find their young sister speaking with Orthorien. Seldes shook her head disapprovingly and spoke first. “You actually fell for that?”

“You know he is only after one thing,” Avorniel added.

“Back for second helpings is more like it,” Irneth murmured, not realizing what she was saying. Her sisters gasped and uncrossed their arms.

“You didn’t,” Seldes demanded.

Irneth sat down and turned redder than the apple sitting atop a nearby bowl of fruit. She had no words and looked to her lap nodding to confirm.

“Irneth!” Avorniel shouted in a loud whisper. “Did we not tell you about Orthorien? Were our warnings not enough to convince you? We told you how he tried the same thing with us.”

“Yes, but we knew better than to go off with him. When we refused him, we knew he was just waiting until you came of age so he could try the same thing with you,” Seldes continued. “This was what we tried to convince you of.”

Irneth covered her face with her hands. “I know … I know you told me, but … well, he was … and I was ... and … well, look at him,” she confessed, finally giving in. “He’s gorgeous and he says all the right things. But you were both right and I should have listened. It was only the one time and it was a long time ago. I learned my lesson and have avoided him ever sense.” Seldes and Avorniel shook their heads in disappointment. Irneth laughed nervously and gave in.

“Well, I hope it was worth it,” Seldes scolded.

She did not answer her sister, but let her mind wander back to that one night with Orthorien, that moment of weakness that she swore she would never repeat. Yes, it was worth it, she told herself and cleared her mind. “Never again,” she proclaimed to her sisters, yet in the deepest recesses of her brain, Irneth was not completely convinced. The hammer had done irreversible damage this evening.


	68. Finale of the Festivities

“Oh Horphen, I have had such a wonderful time tonight,” Meressel exclaimed, the pretty kitchen maiden he had invited to the wedding.

“I am glad to hear it,” he answered with a weak attempt to sound joyous. He had walked her home and was standing outside of her family’s talan hoping she would go in soon so that he could return for the end of the festivities.

For the entire evening, the girl would not stop talking about her culinary skills or of her older brother’s precise butchering techniques, of which the very thought made Horphen’s balls shrink into hiding. Meressel had recently obtained her position in the kitchens and had hopes of becoming one of the many highly ranked cooks. It was good that she took pride in her work, but there had been nothing else to discuss with her. Every time Horphen tried to turn the subject from cooking, Meressel found a way to bring it back to her favorite subject. Now Horphen felt as if he had just finished a boxing match with side of venison and he was tired. But he was raised with a sense of right and wrong and knew he must always finish what he started. He had invited Meressel to the wedding and it was his job to see her home. Any other ellon might have left her there and found someone else to entertain them with the hopes of finding one to warm their bed. Those hopes faded hours ago for Horphen and now he was only doing his duty.

Suddenly, Meressel snaked her arms around Horphen’s waist, rested her chin on his chest and looked longingly into his hazel eyes. “I wish you did not have to bring me home.”

So did he, but it was a little too late for that now. “I promised your family I would have you back at a decent hour and it seems as though we have reached that time.”

Meressel gave him a pout that quickly turn back into a smile. “You are very charming, Horphen.” She brought her arms behind her back and twisted left then right as she looked at him with those innocent blue eyes. “You know, one day I hope to have a wedding as wonderful as Terrwyn and Feredir’s.”

“I hope you do too,” Horphen answered, already feeling sympathy for the poor ellon who would hand her his soul. He better like to eat … a lot, the wicked elf thought to himself and contained a laugh that threatened to escape. “Well, I must be going. I promised Feredir I would see him before the end of the night.” He bowed to Meressel, but when he stood upright again, he found her with her eyes closed, head tilted upward and lips pursed, waiting for a goodnight kiss. Instead of feeling dread for having to kiss someone he had no interest in, he realized that this was a special night for Meressel. Who was he to ruin an evening that she would undoubtedly remember for the rest of her days? He took her chin in his fingers and she opened her eyes. “Have you never been kissed before?” he whispered.

She blushed and turned her head to the side. “No.”

Feeling her embarrassment, Horphen smiled sincerely and caught her in his gaze. “I am honored that you have chosen me to be your first.”

For the first time this day, Meressel was speechless. She was no longer the chatty overly anxious elleth, but rather shy and, should he even say, scared? Horphen put his strong hands on her waist and leaned towards her. Meressel wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do, but he smiled to ease her worry. “Just relax. A first kiss comes but only once and it should be enjoyable.”

She nodded and gave a nervous smile before she closed her eyes. Horphen moved closer and brushed his lips across hers before stilling himself. The kiss was sweet and tender, lips sliding upon lips, then parting as the tips of their tongues touched. A light caress was all he would offer her mouth. Anything deeper would not have been appropriate. The moment seemed to last an eternity to Meressel, but too soon it was over. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Horphen could feel it. He released his hold on her and stood back at a more respectable distance. With his hand over his heart, the elf bowed to the young maiden and smiled.

“It was a pleasurable evening, my lady.”

“It was for me too,” Meressel confessed as she placed her hand on the doorknob. She turned to look at him again. “Thank you Horphen, for everything. You are a true gentleman.”

* * *

Back at the hall, Feredir and Terrwyn were having a wonderful time dancing and talking with friends, meeting new people and just all around have the time of their lives. The wine flowed freely throughout the night. Feredir paced himself, but Terrwyn was beginning to feel the effects of the strong vintage. He saw evidence of this as she stumbled. He excused himself from his present company and went to his wife’s side. “Perhaps you’ve had enough, Terrwyn.” He only called her by her given name when he was upset or concerned, the latter being his current feelings.

“I am fine, Feredir. I’m just a little tired and tripped over my dress is all,” she said defending her actions.

“If you are tired then I think it’s time you took a rest.” Feredir used her own excuse against her, apologized to her current guests and led her to the tables. Remlas caught his eye and he approached the Master healer with Terrwyn on his arm. He smiled and bowed. “Master Remlas, it was a surprise to see you tonight, but we are honored to have you in our company. Terrwyn was just telling me that she needed a rest and--.”

“By all means my dear girl, have a sit and rest your tired feet,” Remlas interrupted as he stood and pulled a chair out for her. Terrwyn had a seat and realized that Feredir was right to have her rest a moment. She expected him to join her, since it seemed they had hardly spent a quiet moment alone this evening. Feredir leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“I see Orthorien has a lull in his company and there is something I want to speak with him about. I’ll be back and then we will have another dance before our guests leave.” He kissed her hand and brushed her cheek with his fingers, sending a spark along her spine. His warm breath blew across her ear. “And then I will finally have you all to myself.”

Terrwyn sighed. Would there ever be a day more perfect than this? She watched him turn to leave and reached for her goblet. As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Feredir spun around and took the glass from her. “No more, at least for now.”

She gave him an exaggerated pout then smiled. Feredir walked away, setting the glass on a tray for empty ones and leaned into the ear of a nearby servant who nodded and went to the kitchen. A few moments later, she approached Terrwyn with a glass of something that looked very much like wine. Terrwyn thanked the serving elf and took a sip, making a face. “Ugh, fruit juice,” she said disappointedly.

Remlas watched and laughed at her. He moved his chair closer so that they could hear each other over the music. “Feredir cares a great deal for you doesn’t he?”

“Yes he does,” she spoke dreamily and then realizing who she was speaking to she added. “Oh, but this will not affect my work. I will be back in a few days, refreshed and ready to continue my studies.”

“This is not the time to discuss work and tonight I am not your teacher.”

Terrwyn relaxed a bit. “Thank you Remlas.” She paused before going on. “I must admit, it was quite a surprise to see you here. I did not think this was something that interested you.”

“Despite what you have heard, I still enjoy a good festival time and again. And … well, you are my student and I thought it was appropriate to attend.”

Terrwyn smiled and turned to see where Feredir had gone. He was standing with Orthorien and Laveth. They were laughing and enjoying each other’s company, a very close-knit family. It warmed her heart, but at the same time, she felt sadness. Hathmund was here, and that was the greatest gift she could receive, but she could not help but think about her mother and father. When she was little, she dreamt of sharing this special day with them. Her mother had probably thought the same.

Remlas sensed her mood change. “They are your family now, Terrwyn. The elves do not take such a thing lightly. Laveth loves you as if you were her own daughter.” He had known of her families tragic deaths and felt for the girl. “And I’m sure your father would be very proud of you also . . . your elf father,” he added.

“He would never have known of my existence. He sailed before I was born.”

Since becoming closer to Terrwyn, Remlas had learned more of her life and knew of her past. She had told him about her elvish father, but he had never addressed the issue before. “You are mistaken, Terrwyn. He knew exactly what he was doing when he met your mother. A child must be willed. There can be no mistakes.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand why he did what he did. How can he know he left a child behind and not wonder what became of it, of me. Ever will it plague me as I wonder who he was, what he was like, where he was from and why he sailed knowing he was leaving a part of him behind.”

“Maybe he was lonely. Maybe he was not ready to leave Middle-earth behind and by siring a child, he felt he had not really left, not completely,” Remlas answered.

Terrwyn looked at Remlas curiously and wondered why he took any interest in the subject. He was not the kind to show any emotions, let alone concern about someone he hardly knew. She felt there was something of a more personal level behind his words of comfort. She wanted to ask him about his wife and what happened. Why was it that Remlas lost his loved one and stayed while her father brought life into the world and sailed?

Her confusion and concern must have showed, for Remlas took up her hand in his, squeezing gently. “As I said, they are your family now. You need not think about this anymore. Feredir adores you and will give you a life full of love and honor. Nothing else should matter. Do not grieve for someone you do not know. He was a fool not to have stayed.”

Terrwyn smiled. “Thank you Remlas. No one’s words have meant more to me. I guess it is his loss isn’t it?”

“Whoever he is, I think he regrets his decision. He should have stayed and at least seen his blood, the life he chose to sire,” Remlas replied.

As he finished speaking, Horphen approached her, smiling wide and holding his hand out to her. “My Lady Terrwyn, I would be honored to have a dance with you, if you don’t mind parting from your company.”

She felt a little awkward leaving Remlas now after the conversation they were having. The Master healer pointed towards the dance floor. “Go on my dear. The night is almost through. Enjoy the rest of your evening with friends and family. I think I will be going myself. It was a lovely ceremony, Terrwyn and I am happy for you.”

Terrwyn, being bold and still slightly tipsy from the wine, leaned over and gave Remlas a kiss on the cheek. “I don’t care what they say about you. I think joy net is very appropriate,” she teased, referring to the meaning of his name.

He furrowed his brow and gave her a stern look. “I will let you get away with that just this once, but I never want to hear mention of it again.” His face softened and he smiled as he bowed. “Good evening, Lady Terrwyn.” With that, he left the hall.

Horphen stood by, amazed at what he just saw. “You are the bravest person I have known. No one has ever called him that before and those who have are now peeling potatoes in the kitchen.”

“Remlas is not as bad as everyone makes him out to be, but trust me. I shall not be saying anything so daring to him again,” she answered and Horphen led her to the dance floor.

Feredir was already dancing with Irneth when Terrwyn arrived. Now Horphen took her arm and led her into a dance. Significant others and best friends all whirled around each other in a lively dance. The music turned to something slower and the couples changed their dance patterns.

“Terrwyn, you make such a lovely bride. I know you are already bound, but you truly deserved a day like this,” Horphen said as he twirled her around.

“I may not be here if it weren’t for you. I was never so grateful as I was when you stayed with me in Rohan. It would have been unbearable had I not had your hope and your friendship,” Terrwyn answered.

“Feredir was the true hero, but I will take your praise,” he laughed.

Terrwyn sensed a little loneliness coming from him. “You will be someone’s hero someday. Your heart is true and you are very suave. Some lucky elleth will be swept off her feet by you.”

“Thank you for not telling me what a gentleman I am.”

“You’re secret is safe with me,” Terrwyn smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

“You know, Feredir,” Irneth started as she danced with the dark elf. “I never thought I would see this day. You have changed so much in such a short time.”

“I have Terrwyn to thank for that,” he jested.

“I’m sure she is partly responsible, but I think the best thing you ever did was to settle in Ithilien with the new colony. You needed to get away from here, though I know how much you love your home.”

“A lot has happened to me since I made that decision. It was not easy, especially leaving Mother and Orthorien.” He laughed. “Well, maybe not my brother.”

“I am glad to see that you two have reconciled. And Terrwyn is just so lovely. You could not have chosen a better wife. You will both have a blessed life in Ithilien, I’m sure. It makes me wish I could go there myself.”

“Ithilien would be glad to have you,” Feredir claimed.

The serene moment was interrupted by the tall, handsome, yet wickedly tantalizing brother of the groom as he strolled up to the dancing couple. “If you don’t mind, may I finish out this dance with the lovely Irneth?” Orthorien charmingly asked.

Before Feredir answered, he looked to Irneth. She forced a smile and allowed the dark haired elf to release her. “It’s alright. I promised him a dance.”

Feredir bowed to her and then gestured for Orthorien to take his place. “Behave yourself,” he ordered.

Orthorien held her respectably while they were in the eyes of the other elves. They danced quietly to the unhurried tune, but it was Irneth who spoke first. “Aren’t you worried that your Lindon lover will become upset to see you with me again?” she teased.

“Have you noticed there is no reed pipe in this song or in the last three songs to be exact?”

Irneth looked to the minstrels and notice it was now only the harp and the lute that remained. She looked back at Orthorien, almost feeling sorry for him, but not quite. “I’m sorry things did not work out for you, but you brought it on yourself, you and that wandering eye.”

“The evening is not a complete loss. I have still managed to end it with a beautiful elleth in my arms.”

She gave him an accusing glare. “One song Orthorien … that was the deal.”

Orthorien chortled quietly and spun her around, focusing on the dance more than the conversation. Then he pulled her to him again and slowed his steps. “So tell me, why is it someone as alluring as you has not caught the eye of some unsuspecting ellon by now. It seems both of your sisters have.”

“My sisters are not studying to be an official scribe for the royal court. I don’t have time to think about courtships and betrothals. This is important to me. This is how I want to serve our King,” she claimed. “And aren’t you one to talk. Laveth would feel much more at ease about leaving her sons behind knowing that they are both settled with wives.” 

“Yes, well, like you I am not ready for such a commitment. When you have seen as much as I have as a warrior, you learn to appreciate everything around you, to adore the beauty life has to offer. I want to experience it all so that when I finally sail I will be satisfied in knowing that I didn’t miss a thing here in Middle-earth,” he answered honestly.

“Seems to me if you do not find that one thing you cannot live without, then you have missed something.” Irneth was speaking for herself more than for Orthorien. She shook her thoughts and blinked to clear her mind, putting on a forced smile. “I for one am nowhere near ready to leave yet. There is still too much I want to accomplish.”

Orthorien spun around while holding Irneth tightly in his arms, catching her off guard by his sudden movements. He ended it by dipping her backwards and searching her blue eyes with his gold ones. “Since neither of us have any plans on settling with a mate, I say we make a pact.”

Irneth laughed nervously. “A pact? What on sweet earth are you talking about? You are the last person--”

“Exactly,” Orthorien claimed. He brought her upright, but still held her close. “The last person. Neither one of us wants to sail alone, but it may just come down to that. I say we make a pact that if we have not found a mate by then, we sail together.”

Irneth stared at him, mouth open and smiling as she glanced from golden eye to golden eye. She stifled a laugh when she studied him closer. “You are serious aren’t you?”

“I have always admired you, Irneth. You are beautiful and smart and you know how to handle my wicked ways.”

“If you call ignoring you for the past few centuries handling you,” she jested.

“And you are persistent,” Orthorien added. “Come now Irneth, what say you? Besides, we both know that you are bound to meet someone who will steal your heart before the day comes. It’s all in good fun, a foolhardy plan.”

Irneth had to laugh now. “You are insane, you know that?” Orthorien remained silent awaiting her answer. Well, what harm could it do? He was probably right about her meeting and falling in love with someone before they sailed. As soon as she accomplished her goal with the court, she would be free to seek a mate. By that time, Orthorien would have forgotten about her and this silly promise. “Alright then, we have an accord.”

The song ended and the dancers stilled and separated. Before he allowed her to leave the dance floor, Orthorien leaned into her ear and whispered. “Now, how about you come with me back to my comfortable silk sheeted bed and we celebrate our new arrangement.”

Irneth turned to face him, bringing her slightly parted lips within a hairs width from his. Then she patted the side of his face with her hand a little forcefully and smiled. “I’m afraid you’re sleeping alone tonight.” She laughed and spun on her heal. Oh, it felt good to turn him down. Had she said yes, it would have been another huge mistake. Clink … clink … clank . . . Damn that hammer, she thought.

Orthorien watched her walk away. Of all his lovers, there was something about Irneth that held his interest throughout the years. He had claimed her once, but he was so young then and so was she. He had miscalculated her expectations in his rush to know her body, which led to their hapless parting. Oh, the things he could show her now. She had been a very willing partner in the beginning and he imagined how much more compliant she would be since she matured. Perhaps that day would still come, but until then, there were plenty of others willing to play.

* * *

Horphen sat alone at a table, watching Terrwyn and Feredir as they danced the last dance of the evening. The celebration was over. Other than close friends and family, the rest of the guests had left. His night had not turned out as he would have liked, but he felt good about the way he handled Meressel. Although she was of the appropriate age, she was not ready for what he could have given her. He was a fool to think such a thing. It seemed more times than naught, he ended up going home alone. Tonight was no different.

He sipped the remnants of his wine and watched the blessed couple as they forgot about the world around them. Feredir deserved this. He had struggled long and hard throughout his life. It was good that he found his true love and there was no one finer than Terrwyn. It was truly meant to be for them both.

Lost in his thoughts, he did not notice the servant that walked up to him. She was dressed in the appropriate uniform for her job, a simple dark green gown with tapered sleeves embroidered in gold. Her golden hair was pulled back and braided at the sides and in her hands was a carafe of wine.

“Can I refresh your drink for you?” she asked, holding the decanter elegantly in her hands.

“No, I think I’ve had my fill for tonight,” he responded, taking no notice as he covered the glass with his hand.

The elleth walked away, but stopped and turned back to Horphen. She had been watching him all evening, saw him dance and converse with his date and then leave with her on his arm. Now she was surprised to see he had returned to the hall alone. Feeling quite brave, she approached the handsome elf and gathered her nerves. “I cannot help but notice that you have come back without your date. She was very pretty and seemed to be quite taken with you. I hope nothing unfortunate happened.”

Horphen looked up from his seat and noticed the servant more closely. He smiled politely. “Oh no, it was nearing her curfew was all.”

The elleth giggled and Horphen creased his brow at her response. She contained herself quickly. “I mean no disrespect. It’s just … well, I cannot imagine someone as handsome and charming as you escorting anyone with a curfew. She did seem a little young,” she added, hoping not to overstep any boundaries.

“I have been away for a while and I sometimes forget what the elleth are like in Eryn Lasgalen. She is of age, mind you, but you are right, still quite young.” Horphen was curious about this lovely servant and pulled a chair out. “Won’t you have a seat?”

“Oh, well I--,” she stuttered looking back at the kitchen door.

“The night is almost through. I do not think you will get in any trouble for sitting a spell.” He gave her his most winning smile and she sat down immediately. “What is your name?”

“I am Rhawen,” she said looking deep into his eyes.

“I am Horphen.” He held his hand out to her and as she took it, he brought it to his lips and kissed it gently. Then he cocked his head to the side and asked her another question before things went any further. “You are not training to become a cook are you?”

Rhawen laughed. “No, this is just temporary employment. Actually, I am more interested in medicine like the Lady Terrwyn.”

Horphen gave a sigh of relief. After listening to Meressel go on all night about suckling pigs and stuffed quail, he knew he could not take any more talk of food preparation. “Healing is a noble art,” he started and soon the conversation flourished naturally. He told her about life in Ithilien and she spoke of her yearning to one day leave Eryn Lasgalen and join the colony. The discussion turned to a more personal level as they talked about dates that did not end well and missed opportunities.

Suddenly, someone called out to Rhawen from one of the kitchen doors and she jumped up in alarm. “I hadn’t realized how long I’ve been away. I have to go Horphen, but it was very nice meeting you.”

“Likewise, my lady,” he answered. At least the night ended on a better note than he originally thought. Rhawen was enjoyable company.

She started to dash off, but stopped in her tracks and returned to Horphen. “Some of the kitchen help are meeting in the wine cellars after our job is done here. It’s kind of a tradition, thanks for a job well done for the servants who work so hard. You can come if you like, unless you have other things--.”

“I’d love to, Rhawen,” he interrupted. Their eyes met a moment, some hidden fire sparking between them.

“Good,” she smiled. “Meet me here, by the kitchen entrance. I’ll come for you when we are through cleaning.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he answered in a sultry voice. Rhawen hurried off through the kitchen door, glancing back at Horphen once more and finding him watching her.

He smiled to himself and leaned back in his chair. “The evening is not a waste after all.” Horphen mindlessly picked up the wine goblet and brought it to his lips, tilting the glass up and up until he realized it was empty. He looked around in embarrassment to make sure no one had seen him behave so absentmindedly. No one had and he laughed to himself. Tonight he would not go home alone.

* * *

As the minstrels played their last notes, Feredir pulled Terrwyn to him, looked deep into her eyes and waited for her to kiss him. Her lips were soft and slightly demanding. The night had ended and now they would go off to somewhere more secluded.

The guests who remained gave one last hurrah and sent them on their way. Feredir led Terrwyn through the winding hallways of the palace and she was sure she knew the way until they made a turn or two that she did not recognize. This part of the guest quarters seemed deserted and it was not their regular room he stopped at now.

“Where are we, Feredir?” she laughed as she looked at him peculiarly. “This is not our room.”

“No, this is not, but it is our special hideaway for as long as we like, far from the other guests and residents.” He turned the handle and opened the door slowly, allowing a soft glow to emanate from within. A hearth had been lit and thick fur throws scattered out from in front of it. Terrwyn entered the room after Feredir gave her a slight push and she was amazed by the richness of its décor. Opposite the hearth was a very large bed with four thick wooden posts at each corner carved from birch with the smooth unending lines she had become so accustomed to. They rose almost to the curved ceiling. It seemed more like the alcove in a cave rather than a room, quiet and cozy, a cocoon of comfort. Sheer silky swags draped between the posters, matching the throw below. Upon the bed was with a luxurious coverlet of deep indigo and embroidered with silver thread, the shapes of vines and leaves unmistakable. Next to the bed stood a nightstand lined with mithril candleholders that glimmered beneath the dancing flames. A washstand to the right and a small wardrobe to the left completed the small room. It was obvious that this room served only one purpose and was the reason they were here this night.

“Our very own love nest,” Terrwyn cooed as she clasped her hands together and spun in a circle.

Feredir captured her and she swayed in his arms, dizzy from spinning and from the wine earlier. She looked around at all the delightful things in the room. He released her so she could examine them closer. As she walked around, touching the fine wood grain of the washstand, smelling a fresh bouquet of mixed flowers sitting on a shelf, his eyes followed her every move. She was so elegant as she seemed to float from one side of the room to the other. Terrwyn stopped at the foot of the bed and ran her hand over the coolness of the satin. Feredir came up behind her, placing his hands upon her shoulders and moving her hair to one side, he laid gentle warm kisses upon her neck. Terrwyn smiled thinking how fortunate she was to have him.

His kisses distracted her enough that she did not notice her corset loosening as Feredir unlaced the satin green ribbon. When she suddenly found that her ribs were not being squeezed together and that she could breathe easier, she giggled. “That feels much better.”

“Does it now?” he whispered upon her neck, sliding the corset from her body. His arms snaked around her waist, holding her tight as he pulled her against his chest. She turned in his arms to face him and reached up to the high collar of his uniform’s vest, black with the white tree of Gondor upon the breast. She began undoing the clasps and pushed it from his shoulders. Then her fingers started their meticulous job of unfastening the buttons of his shirt. As she did, she breathed in deep, recognizing his scent, a mixture of nature and desire. When she was finished, Feredir shrugged it from his shoulders where it pooled on the floor at his heels.

She observed the magnificent creature before her, hardened muscles beneath smooth skin. The scars upon his chest seemed to have faded but for the newest ones, the ones he received in Rhûn. It may not have mattered to Feredir, but for Terrwyn it was a constant reminder of his devotion to her, that he risked his life just to see that hers continued. She touched each one with a gentle hand, then kissed them as if she could make them disappear. These were her scars as well as his and she felt responsible for his injuries. Feredir had ignored her concern in the past, saying it was nothing he had never endured before, but she knew the truth, especially with the scar on his collarbone, where the leaf tattoo was seared from his flesh and replaced with the symbol of the Haradrim. The black serpent was gone now, as a result of Feredir begging his best friend, Horphen to stick a hot iron to it, ridding him of the slave’s marking. Feredir was no one’s slave.

The skin in this area was still pink, shiny and thin it seemed, but it no longer caused him any pain and Terrwyn delicately kissed it. She did not linger long as her lips traveled up his neck, along his jaw and chin, to his hungry mouth, which she captured. The kiss was slow and lingering and their bodies crushed against each other, flesh upon flesh.

Terrwyn released him, looking into his silver eyes and finding them full of love for her. From the very beginning, he had the power to ensnare her with just a glance. He did so now as she felt his need for her rising. Yet, there was something she wanted him to know, another thought that plagued her mind. “This should have been our first time. This should have been the night we sealed our bond and I cannot help but feel as though I robbed you of this as well as other things.” Here she lightly grazed a fingertip over the pink scar.

He took up her hand and brought it to his heart. “I do not regret a single decision I have made -- we have made. We were in such emotional turmoil in Rohan. I finally had you back with me and I meant never to let you go again or die upon losing you. I would have been happy with our bond alone and it would have been enough. The fact that we were able to have this marriage blessed only makes it that much sweeter to have you as my wife and to be your husband.” Then Feredir looked down to where the pink scar was. “None of this was your doing. It was my decision, my sacrifice to make to ensure that you would be free.”

“But that tattoo meant something to you. It was from your father and--.”

“It was a black mark upon my flesh, nothing more. I have his memory and that is enough. I have you and that is all that matters now.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it tenderly as his eyes fell upon her, burning with longing. "If ever we must be separated, it will be by distance only, never by spirit.”

Terrwyn brushed the black hair from the side of his face, pushing it behind his ear. Her hand cupped the side of his face as she searched his eyes. “My life belongs to you now, Feredir. All that I am is in your hands. You have taught me to trust in us, to trust in myself. You have made me so happy, fulfilled my childhood dreams and given me a life that I sometimes wonder if I deserve. My love for you will never stop growing.”

They kissed again, this time their hunger increasing with every caress. Freeing themselves from their remaining wedding attire, Feredir gently laid Terrwyn onto their satin bed and covered her with his body. He tasted the soft flesh of her breasts and drank the sweetness of her essence before descending into her depths. In a tangle of limbs, flexing muscles, heaving breath and a chorus of enraptured moans and cries, they made love, revisiting the bond and the promise they made to each other.

For two days, the couple only emerged to eat or to bathe. And when they were done, they slipped back into their love nest, free of worry, free of the world around them, wedded bliss and blessed bond, securely joined by heart, by soul and by love. Together they had purpose. Together . . . they belonged.


	69. Motherly Advice

“She is leaving so soon?” Terrwyn cried at the news Feredir had just given her about his mother. “But it has only been a few months since the wedding. I thought she would stay longer, much longer.”

“This day has been coming for a long time now, Terrwyn. The next ship will be leaving soon and she has decided to sail,” Feredir said, calming his wife.

Terrwyn hung her head. “I know this. I have known it for a while now, but I just thought--. Laveth has been wonderful to me and I love her as I love my own mother. It saddens my heart to see her go now.”

“There are still a couple weeks before she must make the journey, still some time left to spend together. Trust me, I am just as weakened by the news, even though I knew this day would arrive soon. My mother has always been the strength in our family and I will miss her greatly, but this is a joyous time too. She is answering the call and going home. Every elf longs for the comforts of the blessed realm eventually. She will be welcomed with open arms and surrounded by the Valar’s love for the return of their children.”

“You make it sound wondrous.”

“That’s what I have been told at least,” he continued. “So do not despair another moment more for my mother’s parting, but rather celebrate her homecoming.”

Feredir held Terrwyn’s arm as they walked through the gardens outside of the palace. Today was her day off from training and she always spent it outside in the fresh forest air with her husband taking long walks or romantic picnics.

They stopped next to a very large oak tree and Feredir leaned his back against it, looking up into its canopy. He was acting rather peculiar.

“Well, what is it?” she demanded. “I can always tell when you have something weighing on your mind.”

“Orthorien and I are going to escort the next company of elves who set out for Lindon, since Mother will be among them.” His head lowered back down to meet her countenance, waiting for her response.

“You are leaving? For how long?”

“My guess is three weeks, maybe a few days more . We only escort them to the outermost borders of the forest, not for the entire journey, but the elves travel slowly on foot. Horses carry supplies, not people.”

“Oh,” she answered softly, unaware of any of this. Since arriving in Eryn Lasgalen, she had not been without Feredir, at least not more than a day.

“Will you be alright?” he asked, tilting her head up as his fingers touched her chin.

Terrwyn wasn’t sure why she was worried and shoved those feeling to the deepest part of her mind. She smiled. “I will be quite fine. I’m sure Remlas will keep me busy and Irneth will probably move into our home while you are gone,” she laughed.

“As long as she is gone when I return. I want a proper welcome home from you,” he said with a wink.

“Is that right?” she questioned as she leaned against him, his back still to the tree. “Maybe you should leave more often.”

“Hmm,” he moaned against her neck. “Maybe we will start with a proper sendoff first.” He nipped at her neck and then lower. It would be late before they came back from their ‘walk’.

* * *

Terrwyn stood at the gates with Feredir, Orthorien and Laveth. Today was the day the company of elves left for Lindon. Horphen and Irneth were there to say their goodbyes too. From here, Feredir and Orthorien would leave and guard the group until they reached the borders.

Terrwyn went to Laveth and hugged her tight. “You have made me feel so comfortable, Laveth. Thank you for all that you have done. I am going to miss you so much.”

Laveth released her and captured her attention. “I love you as I love my own flesh and blood. You are a very lovely and determined young woman. I know my son is in good hands with you by his side. Take care of each other and live your lives to the fullest. Enjoy what Middle-earth has to offer.” She leaned towards Terrwyn to whisper quietly. “And have lots of little elflings.”

Terrwyn blushed and giggled at Laveth’s boldness. Then she stepped aside to allow the others to give their send-off.

Horphen and Irneth hugged her and gave their well wishes along with a farewell message from the rest of their family. Laveth thanked them and promised they would meet again someday. She gave them each a bit of motherly advice, something she had always done in the past, then went to join the rest of the travelers.

Horphen patted Feredir on the shoulder. “We’ll see you back here soon, my friend. Stay safe and don’t get into too much trouble. Remember, I am not there to drag you from danger,” he said companionably.

Feredir laughed and gave his friend a good punch in the arm. Then on a more serious note he added, “Keep an eye on Terrwyn. I know she will be fine on her own, but it will make me feel better to know she has friends around her.”

“Don’t worry. As usual, I will not let anything happen to her,” Horphen answered.

While the two friends spoke, Orthorien advanced upon Irneth who decided to stay away from the others to let them have their moments alone. He strolled up to her, a mischievous look on his face. Irneth immediately crossed her arms in a protective stance, but she did not back down from him either.

“Will you miss me?” he asked with an air of arrogant teasing.

“Of course not. As a matter of fact, Eryn Lasgalen will be much safer with you gone, or at least the women will be,” she answered. “We will not have to watch our backsides.”

Orthorien leaned to the side and looked behind Irneth. “One of their best attributes.”

“You are a pig, you know that?”

As he stood back up, he whispered near her ear. “Oink.”

Irneth let his foolishness roll off her instead of playing into his bantering, as she was usually coaxed into doing.

“Are you sure you are not ready now, Irneth? You could join the travelers to Lindon and we could fulfill that promise we made at Feredir’s wedding.”

“Quite sure, thank you. And as I remember, there was something in the clause about ‘last ellon on earth’. Last I looked there were many, many elves left to choose from.”

“Very well then, have it your way,” Orthorien laughed. He was about to leave, but stopped and turned once more. Irneth was sure he had at least one more brazen thing to say. Instead, he looked less pompous and more humble. “I know you and Terrwyn have become good friends. Just make sure she’s alright while Feredir is gone.”

Irneth was surprised by his concern. Maybe there really was some part of Orthorien that was not a warg, she thought and smiled slightly. “You know I will. She’ll be just fine. And you do the same for Feredir.”

Orthorien laughed. “Ai, the children are all grown but we still worry for them don’t we?”

Irneth actually laughed aloud at his silly comment then threw her hand over her mouth lest someone thought she found Orthorien funny. She shook her head, still giggling quietly and physically turned the warrior around, shoving him towards his duty. “Go on now. They will be wanting to leave. Stay safe.”

Orthorien walked to where his mother stood with the others. As he did, he looked back over his shoulder to find Irneth watching him. She looked away quickly, hoping he did not notice. The ellon laughed to himself. Perhaps she was just the slightest bit interested in him. So far, his teasing seemed to strike a chord with her and if he played his game flawlessly, he just might have her again as he did when they were younger.

Terrwyn and Feredir held each other, her head upon his chest as he kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him. “I’ll miss you while you are away.”

“I’ll miss you too, Naru. It won’t be long and I’ll be home.”

“I know you will and I’m sure I’ll be very busy in the meantime.” She kissed him once more. “Be careful, my husband.”

Feredir cupped the side of her face before putting his gloves on. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said with only a glimmer of a tear in her eyes. “Now go. Orthorien is waiting.” She had noticed the warrior watching his brother and looking a little anxious to be on their way. Feredir joined the rest of the group and they were off, crossing the bridge as they exited the safety of Eryn Lasgalen’s gates.

* * *

After a brief hiatus, Terrwyn went back to working with Master Remlas and enjoyed it very much, even with his harsh criticisms. He was tough on her because he knew she could handle it. All of this would be well worth it when she returned to Ithilien. Terrwyn planned on helping Master Curuven more, allowing him extra time to spend with Limil. This was the least she could do to repay them for all the kindness they showed her.

Terrwyn was helping Remlas prepare some medicines. The workroom was quiet and the healing house was even more so. Today, her only patients were an elfling boy with a sprained ankle and a cook with a burned hand. The boy would spend the night and the cook could leave as soon as she finished the medicine she was making. Of course, it would have been easier and faster to use the salve that was already prepared, but Remlas wanted her to make up a fresh batch. He said it was practice for her, in times when salve was not handy. He even timed her as he peered around her shoulder, keeping a close eye on her choice of herbs and preparation. When she was done, she smiled at her teacher. Remlas kept a straight face, picked up the jar, sniffed it and dabbed his fingertip in it, swirling it around between this forefinger and thumb as he checked for the correct consistency. He nodded his approval and pointed to the door. Terrwyn went out to see her patient so she could bandage him up and get him on his way. When she was finished, she came back to the workroom, quite pleased with herself. Remlas was busy at his desk and did not look up from his work. She was a little disappointed that he had not commented on her technique, critical or not. Well, what did she expect? Remlas did not hand out praise easily. Still, she thought she had worked very hard and did particularly well with the salve. Terrwyn felt comfortable with it so she gave herself praise for a job well done and went back to work.

After a while, Remlas finished whatever it was he was doing and leaned back in his chair, stretching his muscles. He looked over to the young Rohirrim woman, studying her a moment before he spoke. Terrwyn was one of the most resilient students he’d ever worked with. She was very bright and a quick learner, but most importantly, she loved her work. The patients who came in always left happy and well taken care of. And those who came back for whatever reason were always glad to see her again and to have her help.

“So, Feredir will be away for a while I hear,” Remlas said starting a conversation, not one of his strong points.

“Oh, yes,” she answered, surprised by his sudden interest. “Three, maybe four weeks.”

“He escorts his mother to the borders. I knew she was leaving soon, but I hadn’t known it would be now.”

“I was a little surprised too, but Feredir says she has been longing for some time now.”

“It will happen for every elf eventually,” he added.

“Some say that you heard the call too, but chose to ignore it,” Terrwyn went on. Since Remlas started the conversation, she figured she’d see how far she could take it and maybe learn a little more about her teacher.

“Yes, I heard the call a long time ago. I heard it when I lost my wife, but despair was stronger than the longing. Eventually, I decided to just go, but . . . well, some things change and I did not feel the urgency, so I stayed.”

Terrwyn was surprised he said as much as he did. Remlas was very quiet about his personal life. She decided it was best not to ask any more questions.

“Well now, since Feredir’s mother is leaving what are your plans? Will you stay in Eryn Lasgalen?” Remlas asked, changing the subject back to her.

“It is a wondrous place and I have enjoyed my time here. It has been wonderful getting to know everyone, a dream come true you could say. Still, my heart belongs in Ithilien. It is where I was given a second chance and I feel I owe my gratitude to the city as well as those who supported me. Feredir feels the same. He has made a name for himself in their elvish army and I believe they await his return.”

The room became silent again except for the sound of a pot bubbling away on the stove. Finally, Remlas broke the silence with a surprising compliment. “Ithilien will be lucky to have you amongst their healers. You have done well.”

“Thank you, Remlas,” she said without turning to face him. She knew how difficult it was for him to give praise and decided not to make a noticeable scene.

“Besides, I think I have corrected all of those quirks that Master Curuven taught you. Hmph, Master! Never thought I’d see the day.” This last part Remlas said under his breath. “He was quite a difficult student once he set his eyes upon Limil. Always daydreaming that one, but he soon learned that if he wanted to capture her heart he would have to do well at his schooling also. Limil is Noldor and they do not marry for love alone. She needed to know that he was serious about his studies and so he straightened up and I did not have to dismiss him from my class.”

Terrwyn was amused to think of Limil scolding Curuven, but she also knew of their great love for each other. “Even if Curuven chose to quit medicine and live in a cave, I do not think Limil would have abandoned him,” she commented, thinking of her recent conversation with Feredir and taking up residence in a dark damp hole in the ground. She laughed. “Love will always find a way to draw someone in, steady their feet and keep them bound.”

Remlas looked across the room to Terrwyn, watching her work, the way she held her posture, the way she always had a smile upon her lips, the sensibility of her thoughts. She was a Rohirrim, true enough, but there was something unmistakably elvish about her. “Ai, that is does, young one. That it does,” he agreed.

* * *

After a slow journey, Feredir, Orthorien and Laveth arrived with the others at the outermost borders of Thranduil’s realm. From here, the elvish company would continue west, finishing their campaign at the shores of the Gulf of Lune. Some would take up residence in Lindon and wait for loved ones to join them. Others would set sail on the next ship. Many elves did not leave right away, but lived in the seaside town. They were more reluctant to leave, the longing not being loud to their ears just yet. Being so close to the sea at the westernmost point and the last elvish haven in Middle-earth, they felt closer to their far off home. It made their hearts rest so that they could enjoy these last days, weeks or years before leaving for Valinor. Most found it to be a very enjoyable place to dwell and worked as well as lived in Lindon. Each elf would go when they were ready and this place gave them peace and comfort among others of the same mind.

Feredir and Orthorien spent these last few moments with their mother. She reminisced with them, reminding them of where they came from, who brought them into the world and to make sure they each followed out their purpose. Then she took each one aside and spoke to them.

“Behave yourself,” she started as she spoke first with Orthorien. “You have a lot going for you. You are handsome and strong, a great warrior and caring when you want to be. Find someone, Orthorien. Find someone who will tame that wild soul of yours. And when you do, never let go. It will take a special person to know how to be with you and love you for all that you are. Ever have you been a difficult ellon.” She pulled him to her and surrounded him with her arms. “And I love you very much. Keep safe my son. I will be on the shores waiting for you when you come home.”

“I love you too, Mother. I may not have told you this before, but every lesson, every word of advice I have taken with me. If I have ever disappointed you, then I am sorry. And now that you are sailing, I will look to your words even more often.”

A few more words between mother and son, and Orthorien stepped aside to let Feredir say goodbye. Laveth cupped his face with her hands and smiled as she looked into his bright eyes. “You have made me so proud, Feredir. Even with so many obstacles before you, you have matured into such a wonderful man and elf.”

“You taught me to change,” Feredir told his mother.

“I taught you to recognize when change was necessary,” she corrected him. “The rest you did on your own with no help from me.” Laveth paused and smiled to herself. “It is very fitting that you and Terrwyn should cross paths, don’t you think? You are unique, both of you. During one brief meeting between lost souls, you were both created as if you were supposed to be on this earth to find each other. It is almost as if neither one of you should have existed, but at the last moment, the Valar blessed each of you with life.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way before,” Feredir wondered aloud.

“Just keep that in mind when it comes time for you and Terrwyn to decide what path to follow, now and in the future,” Laveth smiled. She reached out her arms, calling both sons to her and the three of them held each other one last time.

Orthorien and Feredir stood just at the forest’s edge, watching the elves slowly make their way west. As they walked, they sang a lament, their voices carrying on the breeze and reaching the brothers’ ears. When they could not see the elves anymore, they mounted their horses and turned for home. Neither one spoke for a very long time, each left to their own to dwell on their mother’s words. When the forest path opened up wide enough to ride abreast, Orthorien urged his horse to move up alongside Feredir.

“I guess it won’t be long now before Terrwyn and I return to Ithilien,” Feredir mentioned. “We will miss Eryn Lasgalen. It is always good to come home.”

“And it was good having you home again, brother, but I know where your heart lies. You belong in Ithilien with men and elves. It is who you are, and Terrwyn too for that matter. Besides, the army there needs you.” Orthorien paused a moment and fell back behind Feredir when the path narrowed. “I assume Horphen will travel back with you?” he asked.

“Yes, last I heard he was. There are a few others that will make the journey with us.” Feredir laughed. “Horphen has become an official Ithilien recruiter I believe.”

“Are any of his family going?” Orthorien asked curiously, but trying not to sound it.

“I wouldn’t think so. Two of them are planning to marry and I doubt they would leave.”

“And Irneth?”

The path opened back up and this time, Feredir slowed to let Orthorien come up beside him. “Why the sudden interest in Horphen’s sisters?”

Orthorien smiled nervously. “No reason at all.”

Feredir regarded his brother a moment and saw the slightest quirk. Whenever Orthorien was fishing for information and did not want anyone to know, his head tilted slightly to one side. It was nothing anyone would have noticed, but for Feredir it was like a beacon. “Oh, so it’s not his sisters, just Irneth you want to know about isn’t it?”

Orthorien said nothing at first, trying to think of a way out of this conversation. He should have known better than to ask in the first place. “I know how close Horphen is to Irneth and I was only wondering.”

Feredir laughed. “Forget it, Orthorien. She despises you or have you forgotten how poorly you treated her. No elleth would give you a second chance after you used her like that.”

“And how do you know about that? Irneth and I happened before you were born,” he said on the defensive.

“You used to brag to your friends about an elleth who you so cleverly stole her innocence from. You did not think I was listening, but I heard your stories, though I’m sure you added your own flare to them,” Feredir answered.

“You don’t know that it was Irneth. I never gave her name away when I spoke of it,” Orthorien retaliated.

“You didn’t have to. Over the years I noticed how Irneth was the only one who would go out of her way not to have to walk by you. Or when we would enter the dining hall and she was there, she would abandon a full plate of food just so she didn’t have to be in the same room as you. Irneth always avoided you like a disease.”

“So you noticed that too,” Orthorien mumbled.

“And do not think that I didn’t take note of the fact that you shared a dance at my wedding. I think that is the first time she did not disappear at the sight of you,” Feredir went on.

“I knew she would not leave the ceremony,” Orthorien admitted. “Well, it was all for naught. She still hates me. Besides, there are plenty of other’s who would come to my bed. I care nothing for Irneth and after that dance I’ve found that she cares nothing for me either.”

Feredir went on. “It is a shame though, I do like Irneth. She is very beautiful is she not, with her long flaxen hair and the touch of crimson that always colors her cheeks? And she is very intelligent too. She is nothing like the ellith that you usually chase after. You know what I think? Irneth poses as a challenge for you. I think you are becoming bored with all of the others, the young beauties who just want to claim that they have been in your bed. They all throw themselves at your feet and that is too easy for you. Irneth is the only elleth that will not stand and listen to your charming words and that is what attracts you to her. I saw a slight twinkle in her eye before we parted on this journey. There just may be hope for you yet, dear brother.”

Orthorien did not like when someone knew more of his business than himself. Brother or no, it was too personal. Time to change the subject, he thought. “So, how soon will you be leaving for Ithilien?” he asked a little too eagerly.

Feredir laughed aloud. “Alright, I will not mention it again. Have your fun then. Enjoy your liaisons. You will never change, Orthorien.” Maybe for the first time, Feredir had one over on his brother. The smooth talking elf was left without some snide remark. It felt good to be in this overshadowing position for once. Of course, he would not bring it up again or use it against Orthorien, but this bit of power could be useful should the need ever arrive.

Not another word was spoken about Orthorien’s love life and the two settled back into their quiet thoughts. A few more days and they would be back at the palace.


	70. Last Meal and Conversation

“I am torn, Feredir,” Terrwyn started as she was placing the last of her things into her traveling bags. She had come to Eryn Lasgalen with nothing more than the clothes on her back, but was leaving with an array of fine elvish dresses and a few personal items.

“What troubles you, love?”

“Ever since learning of this place, I longed to come and I have found your begetting home to be everything I imagined it to be, as well as its people. A part of me wishes to stay for it feels like my home now also, but the other half of my heart yearns to get back to Ithilien.”

Feredir came up behind her, pulling her to his chest. “You know how I feel. My home is in your arms.” He began nipping at her neck, making her squirm.

“Feredir,” she protested between giggles.

“Alright, I agree that Ithilien calls to us. It will be good to get back to something familiar.”

“And to make a home . . . a real home for ourselves,” she continued.

“And maybe start a family,” Feredir added.

Terrwyn was silent and stilled. Feredir thought he had spoken too soon. It had been on his mind lately, but never had he or Terrwyn discussed it. Now he regretted his sudden admission as her body went rigid. “You do want that, don’t you?”

As quick as a whip, Terrwyn spun in his arms to face him and her look eased his mind. Her eyes were as wide as her smile. “You have never mentioned this before. I thought perhaps it was too soon, which is why I never brought it up.”

“Well, I don’t mean to start now or even when we settle in Gondor, but someday soon after that.”

“That sounds like the perfect plan.” She kissed him as her arms snaked around his neck, the feel of his soft hair spilling over her skin.

Feredir heated as she deepened the kiss. Just when he thought there might be time for a last minute romp in the sheets before meeting Horphen and the other travelers, she pushed him away. “Oh,” she yelled out. “I almost forgot. A letter came for me yesterday, from Hathmund.”

Her brother had stayed for a short while after the wedding. He told her that being around the elves was very healing after all the years of torment of being a slave. He found that the elves were nothing like the Haradrim tricked him into believing. Now he was back in Rohan, but not as a soldier as he had once dreamed. After helping Eomer and offering him all his knowledge of the Haradrim, he decided he did not want court life either. Now, Hathmund lived a quiet life amongst his kinsmen and took over a blacksmith’s shop. He found he had a natural talent for forging metal, supplying weapons and other useful works for the people of Edoras. He had made some of the finest swords for King Eomer as well as some other nobles of the court, Erkenbrand being one of them.

“He says word of his fine craftsmanship has reached as far as Gondor and he has been offered a lucrative job in Osgiliath,” Terrwyn explained as she looked at the parchment.

“Word travels fast. So what does he say?”

Terrwyn smiled. “He is moving there just as soon as he finishes his current commissions. Is this not wonderful news?”

“Gondor will be blessed to have his talent.”

Terrwyn put the letter down on a table and went back to packing as she continued. “I believe the Lady Éowyn and the Lady Lothiriel had everything to do with it. Rumor has it that they correspond quite frequently. I think Hathmund’s handy work was mentioned at some point and word reached Lord Faramir’s ears. The offer to acquire Hathmund was rather grand, his own business and a crew of men at his calling. Really, it was too good an offer to pass up.”

“And Eomer did not counter the offer to keep your brother in Rohan?”

“He makes no mention of it, though I do not know what transpired between them. I’m just so happy that I will have my brother near me again, as it once was.”

“It is surely wonderful news, Naru.”

Terrwyn finished her packing and looked around the empty room. “Well, I guess that’s it.”

“Not quite,” Feredir said and she looked at him suspiciously.

* * *

She thought they were going to meet the other travelers, but Feredir led her to Thranduil’s throne room where they found Horphen and the others. Also amongst the celebrants were Irneth and her sisters, Glothel the seamstress, Orthorien and a few other friends they made during their stay. A small but elegant meal was spread out on a long table and the couple was beckoned to sit and enjoy a last meal together with their friends.

Everyone had a seat and the conversations started immediately before anyone ate. Then one last guest joined them, stepping out from one of his many rooms. Thranduil approached the table and all voices hushed as the elves stood in respect for their treasured king. He smiled and gestured for everyone to sit. Then the king picked up his goblet before taking his own seat. “We could not let you leave without filling your bellies first.” Thranduil raised his glass. “I think I speak for everyone here when I say we enjoyed your company here in Eryn Lasgalen. We are richer for having known you, Terrwyn. And to Horphen and Feredir, it is always good to have our kin back. We wish you would stay, but understand your purpose to leave. Our city has spread outward because of the elvish colony in Ithilien. May you continue to teach others of our good will. Every one of you represents us and there is no finer group of elves to do this task. So now, eat and enjoy these last moments with friends and family. May the Valar watch over you and see you safely to Ithilien.”

Everyone raised their glass and agreed with Thranduil. The king took his seat and the feast began. The hall was filled with laughter as everyone spent this time joyfully together.

There was only one person not in attendance and Terrwyn wondered why. Remlas was not amongst the others. Maybe there was an emergency and he could not leave the healing house. She told herself this many times, but to no avail. Knowing Remlas, he plainly did not see reason to be here. After all, she was not as close to him as she was to some of the other elves at the meal. He was her teacher and nothing more. Still, she was saddened not to see him at least once more briefly before they were on their way.

Too soon it seemed, the meal ended. The elves said their last goodbyes to the travelers and they dispersed from the king’s hall, each in their own direction. They would meet at the gates in an hour and be off. Feredir and Terrwyn slowly made their way through the winding corridors. As they passed one of the many small gathering rooms, she heard someone call her name. She glanced into the room to see Remlas standing, looking very authoritative. She stopped walking and Feredir looked back to see why.

“Go on and I will catch up to you.” As she spoke, she nodded towards the open door. Feredir saw Remlas wearing in his long white healers robe and he smiled to his wife.

“Don’t be too long,” he said and kissed her forehead before advancing down the hall.

“Remlas, why were you not at the feast? Everyone was there,” she wondered.

“As I’ve told you before, I’m not one for such outward celebrations. However, I did want to see you before you left.”

“I am glad. It just did not seem right to leave without at least one more word. I never thanked you for all you have taught me. I feel so much more prepared now and I cannot wait to get back to Ithilien and put my knowledge to use.”

Remlas, who never showed any form of emotion, allowed the corners of his mouth to curl the slightest bit into a smile. “You are very bright, Terrwyn and I have every confidence that you will succeed as a healer. It is because of this that I wish to give you something of mine.” He walked to a table and picked up a hinged case made of birch wood. Elvish runes filled with mithril inlay decorated the lid. It was an exquisite looking box. He held it in his hands with the silver latch facing her. “Go on and open it.”

Terrwyn looked at her teacher a moment, wondering what it could be. Then she opened the lid to find small vials and glass jars all neatly tucked into their proper place. The inside was lined with purple velvet. Wooden dividers protected the containers from clinking together. It was obvious that this was a traveling medicine case, but a very elegant one.

“It is beautiful, Remlas.”

“It was mine when I started my career. Now it belongs to you,” he said dryly, still unable to show any enthusiasm.

Terrwyn could feel his hesitation and awkwardness. She would not make a fuss, but she would make sure he knew how much she appreciated this unique gift. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

“Say nothing and just take it before I change my mind,” he said in his usual stern tone. He closed the lid and handed the case to her.

“I will treasure it, Remlas,” she responded, ignoring his scowl. Quickly before Remlas could react, Terrwyn moved closer and kissed him on the cheek. Embarrassed, she looked to the floor as she took two big steps backwards. She thought he would give her one more berating for her outlandish behavior, but instead, Remlas laid a warm gentle hand upon her arm and she looked up into his blue eyes to see a spark she had never noticed before.

“You have been a wonderful student and I am quite proud of you,” he whispered.

“Thank you, Remlas,” she answered, a glimmer of a tear forming.

Remlas noticed and cleared his throat as he let go of her arm. Quick as lightening, he was the stuffy healer once more. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get going before they leave without you.”

Terrwyn knew he wouldn’t want her to say anything more. She nodded and bowed slightly before she left without looking back. Something told her that he would not be watching her anyways. They had their private moment and it was time to move on, but Remlas would forever be in her heart.

* * *

“Brother, I will miss you,” Feredir said as he and Orthorien grasped arms. 

“Are you surprised?” Orthorien jested.

“It is a much better departure than the last time I passed these gates,” Feredir admitted.

“You will come and visit Ithilien won’t you?” Terrwyn asked.

“In time I think I will. For now, there is much to do here,” Orthorien said smiling.

“Terrwyn?” a voice called. She turned to see Irneth standing back from the others and went to her. The friends embraced each other.

“I am going to miss you so much, Irneth. You’ve taught me so many things about my heritage and you are such a good friend. I really hate to leave you.”

“I wish you would stay since I cannot leave. I was waiting to tell you this, but I got my first assignment as a scribe,” Irneth said excitedly.

“Already? But I thought you were just starting your training.”

“So did I, but the master wordsmith saw some of my work with translations of dwarvish to Sindarin and said I was quite advanced for my training. I am going to be an assistant to one of the court translators.”

“You deserve this, Irneth. I know how hard you have worked for such an opportunity.” Terrwyn hugged her again. “I will write you and keep you informed on what happens in Ithilien.”

“And make sure to tell me all the things that Horphen will not.” Irneth teased. “And I want all the details.”

“I will be watching him,” Terrwyn answered and the friends shared in one more laugh together.

* * *

The packs were secured to the horses, supplies were plentiful and with a few last embraces and shed tears, the group of eight travelers mounted and set off over the bridge and along the forest path. It was a long way to Gondor from here, but it would be mostly uneventful. With two of Ithilien’s best soldiers amongst the group, they had nothing to fear from robbers or evil doers along the road. Soon, the elvish colony of North Ithilien would have new residents as well as returning ones. Feredir and Terrwyn were anxious to get back as well as Horphen. It had been a long journey for them since leaving their home, but it would be well worth it to return.

With only a few days of travel left, the small group from Eryn Lasgalen was anxious to arrive at their new home. Those who had never been outside of Rhovanion were not sure what to expect while those returning to Ithilien would be glad to settle into the comfort of the new city once again.

“I for one cannot wait to perch upon my favorite stool at my favorite haunt and order a glass of Ithilien’s finest wine,” Horphen said as he reminisced with Feredir. They had stopped to make camp for the night. There were no inns for miles around and so it was a night beneath the stars for the elves.

Feredir regarded his friend with a smile. “I thought you might not be ordering the house best now.” Horphen seemed confused and Feredir clarified. “You do remember where that particular bottle is kept, who retrieves it and how she does it.” He was of course referring to Feona, the finer wine under the bar and the full exposure to her cleavage as she bent down to retrieve the bottle.

“And what ever gave you that thought?” Horphen asked.

“I just thought since speaking to Rhawen about life in Ithilien and her decision to leave Eryn Lasgalen--.” Rhawen had been the wine servant at his wedding, who he thought Horphen had come to know a little more intimately. Perhaps not, he thought as Horphen interrupted.

“Well, you thought wrong, my friend. I like Rhawen just fine, but there is nothing more. She seemed quite curios about Ithilien and I answered her questions as best I could. It was her decision to come along and not because of me.” Horphen paused to straighten the collar of his tunic.

Feredir glanced over his shoulder to where the women sat together next to the campfire, talking about whatever it was women spoke of. He caught Rhawen gazing from across the way, looking at Horphen and him unaware. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Feredir rolled his eyes in the direction of the women and Horphen looked behind him. He saw Rhawen turn away quickly, but she had definitely been watching him.

“With you married to Terrwyn and Orthorien back in Eryn Lasgalen, I guess I’m the most eligible. I cannot be tying myself down to one elleth when so many deserve my attentions,” he boasted.

Feredir shook his head. “That kind of behavior will earn you a reputation.”

“I certainly hope so,” Horphen teased, which earned him a punch in the arm from his best friend.

* * *

It had been close to a year that Terrwyn had first entered through these gates and to an uncertain future. Now she was entering of her own will and very happy to be back in North Ithilien. It was early fall and the slightest feel of the season carried on the wind. The leaves were still green, though they were not as vibrant. The warmth of summer clearly had not passed just yet, but soon it would be replaced by the crispness of autumn. It would be nice to enjoy her favorite time of year without worry.

The newest colony members were in awe of the city, especially as they paused in the courtyard and observed all the many different kinds of citizens. Men, elves and even a few dwarves moved about the towns circle. For those daring enough to leave their begetting place, they found Ithilien to be just what they were hoping for.

Terrwyn paused and glanced across the courtyard, to the center where the fountain stood. She breathed deep, smiled and slowly released it. “We’re finally home, Feredir.”

“Yes, Naru we are home at last,” he agreed as he held her close.

She laughed as she observed the others and their state of wonderment. “I can truly understand what they are thinking right now, for I feel like one of the newest residents myself.”

Just then, they were met by a welcoming committee of sorts; members of Horphen and Feredir’s border guard along with a few family members of the other elves from Eryn Lasgalen. Terrwyn watched from the side as the travelers were swept away by the enthusiastic people. She laughed and felt the joy in her heart swell. What a wonderful sight.

“Now, I could not have one of the loveliest of Ithilien standing alone and unwelcomed. She should be greeted by at least one familiar face,” said a very old friend. Terrwyn turned to find none other than the chestnut haired ellon smiling at her, his hazel eyes shining brightly. Her mouth hung open as she gazed upon her childhood elf. “Careful or you’ll catch a fly in your throat,” he jested.

“Antien,” she sang as she hurried to him. Terrwyn embraced him and his contagious laughter made her join in. “Oh what a marvelous surprise.”

He released her and stood back, observing her from head to toe. “You are more beautiful every time I see you.” Terrwyn blushed and looked away as he continued. “The other’s wished they could have been here, but Master Curuven and Limil have a full waiting room. It seems there has been an outbreak amongst the human children … sniffles and everything that comes along with it. They told me to inform you that your old room upstairs is ready and waiting for you and Feredir. Limil insists that you stay with them until you find a place of your own.”

“They have always been more than kind. And what about Glandur? How is your better half?” she teased.

“Always the captain and always in control,” Antien answered. “And always checking on you it seems. He made sure to stay informed of everything while you were away.” He took her hands in his as his mood turned slightly somber. “We all prayed that the Valar would guide those helping you while you were in Rohan. It seems our laments were answered and when word came of your release, we were overjoyed. None of us would rest until we were sure you were safe in Eryn Lasgalen.”

“It was a very difficult time, Antien, but I stayed true to myself and my belief. I will not tell you what happened the day of my release, but I will say that I was very close to meeting my forefathers. But Feredir kept his promise and brought my salvation.” Her eyes misted over with a sheen of tears.

Antien wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “I did not mean for you to revisit those old feelings. It is over and you are safe, that’s all that matters now.” He released her and took her chin in his fingers, gazing into her eyes. “And you are married,” he smiled.

“Yes, we could not wait another moment and bound before we left Rohan.”

“We also got word of the blessing ceremony and had our own little celebration at the tavern. Everyone was there and we shared in food, drink and memories. I must admit, I was a little disappointed that the ceremony could not be here in Ithilien. I have been known to organize some of the best celebrations in Gondor,” he said proudly.

“Somehow that does not surprise me,” she responded with a laugh.

“Terrwyn,” Feredir called from across the way. “Terrwyn, come and meet some of my most trusted guardsmen.”

“I’ll be right there,” she said in return and looked back to Antien. “Tell Curuven and Limil thank you very much and we will see them in a bit. There is so much to catch up on.”

“I will. Now hurry to your husband. He cannot wait to show you off it seems.”

Terrwyn hugged him once more and watched him walk off towards the healing house. Then she joined Feredir as he introduced her to his troops. They were all very formal as they bowed hand over heart to her and asked that she join them, along with Feredir and Horphen in a celebratory glass of wine later at the Hallowed Leg. She accepted the invitation and the guardsmen congratulated Feredir once more before they went off to attend to their duties. Terrwyn laughed as she overheard them joking about being a city warden and hoping to find someone just as beautiful to guard.

Feredir heard too and blushed slightly, surprising his wife. “I don’t think you were meant to hear that.”

“It’s alright. They mean well and are very respectable people. Let them have their dreams,” she giggled.

“So where to first?” Feredir asked.

“First we must see Curuven and Limil, who have so graciously offered our old room for us to stay for now. After that, I don’t care what we do. I’m just glad to be back.”

“So am I, Naru,” he agreed and they walked arm in arm in the direction of the healing house.


	71. Captain of the Ithilien Guard

“This could not have been a better homecoming,” Terrwyn sighed as she lay next to Feredir. They were comfortably back in their little room above the healing house, snuggled beneath the sheets and throws, wrapped in each other’s arms. “And the meal Limil prepared was absolutely exquisite.”

Feredir slid along beneath the sheets, kissing his way down her neck to her collarbone then running his tongue between her breasts. “Mmhmm,” he agreed.

“And I was so surprised when Glandur, Antien and Legolas arrived. Oh, it was just the perfect evening,” she continued.

“Mmhmm,” he moaned again, his mouth full of the soft flesh of her breasts.

“It just could not get much better, just a nice quiet evening rather than a big fanfare.” Terrwyn carried on as if Feredir were really listening. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. The feast and celebration in Eryn Lasgalen was wonderful. I wasn’t expecting any kind of a sendoff and it was nice to see everyone one last time, but you know me. I’d rather spend a quiet and more intimate time with those I am close to rather than a public affair.”

Feredir had worked his way down her ribs and her stomach as she rambled on. Now he paused and rolled his eyes from beneath the sheets. He threw the covers back and looked up at her, his black hair a jostled mess. Perhaps she had been paying attention to his ministrations because when he stopped she regarded him with a tilt of her head. He blew the hair out of his face as best he could and shook his head.

“What?” she asked sharply.

“You still talk too much, Naru.”

She laughed as he tickled her sides, making her squirm beneath him. Then he crawled his way back up and covered her with his naked body. “But I know how to shut you up.” His mouth devoured hers, tongues caressing. He pushed her thighs apart with his knee and settled into her warmth. The only sounds to come from Terrwyn were moans of pure pleasure as Feredir made love to her slowly at first and then more demanding with every thrust. When they were spent, Terrwyn curled into his arms, resting her head upon his chest. The only sound she heard for a long while was his heart beating and she was content to stay this way forever.

After a while, Feredir spoke. “I had a talk with Glandur tonight. He needs me back at the borders soon.”

“I knew you would have to go. They have been without you for a long time. Your talent is needed. Ithilien needs you. I guess I must share you then. I can’t keep you to myself forever,” she said smiling against his chest.

“Well, if things continue to be as quiet as they have been lately, my stay at the barracks will be less and I won’t be gone as long.”

“That will be good then, and good news to hear that there is not as much activity. Perhaps the peace talks between Gondor and Far Harad are helping, but I do not trust the Southrons to integrate into our society so easily,” she commented.

“They are not all as bad as you say, Naru. Some want nothing more than to be allowed to live peacefully in their own land.”

“Those are not the ones I worry about. Haradrim and Easterlings with a mindset like that of the slave traders and the clan leaders won’t be as willing to cooperate with the King of Gondor. I think they are just off licking their wounds for now. They will regroup and find a more efficient way to infiltrate our lands.”

“You may be right, Terrwyn,” Feredir agreed. “I have dealt with them for a long time and seen what they are capable of. Still, I think what Rohan and Gondor have accomplished with the transformation will have more wanting peace rather than turmoil. The enemies will be less.”

“Let’s not talk about this anymore. Soon you’ll be gone and I will have more work to do in the healing house.” Terrwyn paused and thought a moment. “Is it just me, or does Master Curuven seem a bit stretched?”

Feredir twirled a piece of Terrwyn’s hair between his fingers. “He has just been busy healing the town’s children. The outbreak seems to have subsided now.”

“Well, I hope to take some of the pressure off him. Working with Master Remlas has prepared me for more responsibilities and I look forward to putting my talents to good use.”

Feredir rolled onto his back, bringing Terrwyn with him so that she sat up, straddling his hips. “I say we put those talents to good use right now,” he growled in that low tone that set her on fire.

Terrwyn batted her eyelashes in a comical way as she moved down along his body. “Oh, I think I may know just what it is that ails you. Perhaps I can assist in curing my lord.” She shifted and then lowered herself upon his hardened cock.

“Oh gods, Terrwyn,” he moaned as he was instantly engulfed within her heat. “I love when you do that.”

* * *

Life in Ithilien was getting along quite well. Feredir was back amongst his troops patrolling the borders. He seemed to think much clearer now. His life was stable with Terrwyn in it. It was difficult for him to make rash decisions any more without first thinking of his wife and the responsibility of being a good husband. None of this made any difference when he fought though. Feredir was still the same ruthless warrior that he had always been, showing the enemy no mercy.

Glandur took full notice of Feredir’s drive. After careful consideration and seeing that the young elf could indeed show self-control, he decided to give Feredir control of his own troop. After several months of observation, the Captain was satisfied with the results and added more elves to Feredir’s battalion. He continued to do an excellent job of directing his men, training the new additions and earning the respect of those that followed his orders. The borders continued to be safe in all areas surrounding Ithilien, though there seemed to be an increase of disturbances within the community itself. There were minor scuffles as there was with any city that had as many different races as Ithilien. It was bothersome that these outbreaks occurred because of the newest members of the usually peaceful city. A small group of Haradrim refugees asked for permission to settle in Northern Ithilien. The elves, who were always welcoming to anyone, were met with conflict from some of the Gondorian men residing in the town. They did not like the elves decision to allow the Southrons accommodation inside the borders of Gondor, saying they should stay in Far Harad. After much talk, the elves saw no threat from the group of Southrons. They had lived peacefully in their own land and had no ties to any of the Haradrim who fought against the crowning of King Elessar. They simply wanted a chance at a better life. They were given permission by Lord Legolas, but not everyone agreed with this decision.

“If you let this group in then more will come and they may not be as peaceful,” the men argued.

“The Haradrim are known to have spies. What’s to say they aren’t still reporting to their clansmen,” others cautioned.

Legolas, Glandur and a few other counselors did their best to ease the worries of the residents, but there were those who would not concede. These difficult men formed their own group and decided to campaign against Legolas’ decision. This led to the occasional disputes, but was controllable so far.

Meanwhile, Legolas was being called away from his home more often as an ambassador for his elven community. He had done this before, but never on the scale that he was called upon now. When he traveled, Glandur took temporary rule of North Ithilien, but that meant his job as Captain of the Ithilien Guard was not being overseen. This was never a problem before, but with Legolas traveling further away for longer periods of time it was difficult on Glandur and he called a meeting with Legolas.

“I am finding it very challenging when I must alternate between the two,” he said pleading his case. “My troops suffer when it takes longer for decisions to come to them. And I know the foremost importance of looking after the city.”

“I understand your concern, Glandur and I have been giving it some thought. I am prepared to offer you a promotion, Commander of Ithilien. You will take over some of my responsibilities permanently and will have full control when I am away. Any decisions will be solely up to you. You need not wait for a final accordance from me. You will have much more freedom than you do now. I have the utmost confidence in your judgment, Glandur. There is no one else I would trust with this position.” Legolas made the offer and waited for Glandur’s answer. “Someone will have to take over as Captain of the Guard, of course. If you would rather wait until you have thought it over, that is fine with me.”

“Actually, I believe I know who I would promote to replace me, if you agree,” Glandur stated.

Legolas already knew who Glandur spoke of. “And are you sure he is ready?”

Glandur explained. “He has lead his own battalion for a while now with no incidents, no complaints.” He stopped and smiled as he laughed. “And no deaths.”

Legolas nodded and smiled in return. “Well, that is good to know.” Legolas stood up from his desk. “I agree wholeheartedly. Why don’t you send for him so we can give him the good news.”

* * *

Feredir had just returned from his latest campaign with his men. They were at the city barracks, returning their uniforms and dressing in their civilian clothes, when a messenger rushed up to the elf.

“A message from the Captain, sir,” the young boy announced, handing Feredir a folded parchment.

Horphen was next to him, finishing with the last button on his shirt. He looked closely at the letter. “Well, it’s not sealed. It cannot be too important.”

“If it’s from the Captain, it’s always important. What do you think this is about?” Feredir asked his friend before unfolding the note.

“I haven’t the slightest--,” he started but cut himself off. “Oh no, you don’t think this is about that goblin we came across a few weeks back.”

Feredir looked to his left then to his right. No one had heard Horphen. “Hush up about that. No one knows but us. No one else was there.”

Horphen shook his head. “We’re supposed to bring them in for questioning. I told you not to shoot him.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill him, only maim him. It’s his own fault he died. He moved just as I loosed my arrow.”

The two friends argued back and forth, mumbling to each other so no one would hear. “Besides,” Feredir added. “If this is what it’s about, you would have received one of these too.” He lifted the letter to Horphen, who snatched it from Feredir unexpectedly. “Hey.”

“Well, we’ll never know if one of us doesn’t read it,” Horphen complained and started to unfold the note.

Feredir was quicker and grabbed it back, opened it and read silently. He ran his fingers through his thick black mane of hair and sighed heavily. One of Feredir’s battle mates passed by, nodding. Feredir returned the greeting and looked back to Horphen. “I think it is about that.”

“It can’t be,” Horphen insisted. “There wasn’t anyone around.”

Feredir looked to the ellon who just walked by at the exact moment he read the letter. “I’m beginning to have my suspicions.”

“What’s it say then,” Horphen asked anxiously.

“I am to meet the Captain and Lord Legolas . . . at his palace office, not Glandur’s.”

Horphen slapped his hand to his forehead, then ran it down the length of his face. “Oh no.”

Feredir tucked the letter into his shirt pocket, finished buckling his belt and put on his boots as he looked at the barracks door. “Well, I may be put back in the ranks with you or I’m going back to guard duty.” He made his way to the door and left.

* * *

Feredir arrived at the palace and entered the main doors. He spoke to the guards and one of them escorted the dark elf to Legolas’ office. The tall blond guard opened the door and Feredir walked in, head held high and ready for whatever punishment he would endure this time. “Lord Legolas, Captain Glandur,” he addressed them, placing his hand over his heart and bowing properly.

Glandur and Legolas approached Feredir. Separately they looked stern and unmoving, but together they appeared to be quite sovereign. Feredir swallowed hard and waited.

Glandur spoke first. “Feredir, you have proven yourself to be worthy of the position that I assigned. You have shown yourself capable and trustworthy with greatly increased responsibilies and you have exceeded my expectations.”

He paused and Feredir thought the Glandur was finished. “Thank you, Captain.”

“However,” Glandur continued.

Feredir’s stomach cringed at that blasted word. That’s it, they know, he said to himself. Well, no better time than now to defend his actions. “Captain, if this is about the goblin then please allow me to explain.”

Glandur and Legolas turned their heads to face each other simultaneously. Glandur was curious to know about this goblin Feredir spoke of while Legolas tried as he might to contain himself from laughing. Glandur turned back to Feredir, head cocked as one eyebrow rose skeptically. “A goblin?”

“This is not . . . about . . . the other day?” Feredir said slowly, as if Glandur would fill in the rest of the sentence.

Glandur glanced at Legolas. “My lord, have you been informed of a mishap with a goblin recently?”

“No, I’m afraid I have heard no such news from the borders. Perhaps Feredir would care to explain.” Legolas was trying very hard not to burst into laughter, but he followed Glandur’s lead as they teased the apprehensive ellon.

Feredir ran his hand over his hair, as he always did when he was caught in a scheme. “Oh, um . . . did I say goblin?” He smiled and laughed nervously.

Glandur closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Of all the times to screw up, Glandur groaned to himself. Legolas just smiled, unable to control himself anymore, and patted the Captain on the back. “Allow me the honors.”

Glandur held his hand out towards Feredir while still holding his head as if the most ridiculous headache suddenly struck him. Legolas approached Feredir and the young elf came to attention. “Despite the . . . goblin incident.” He paused and turned back to Glandur. “Which I am sure the Commander will undoubtedly get to the bottom of.” Legolas faced Feredir once more.

Feredir tilted his head. “Commander?”

“Yes, I have promoted your Captain to Commander, which is why you were called here. Feredir, we need someone to take over Glandur’s position as Captain and after careful consideration, we believe you are qualified for this duty.” He stopped to let Feredir absorb the information. “We would like to promote you to Captain of the Ithilien Guard. You will oversee all military command, make important decisions and arrange the troops as you see fit.”

A smile slowly spread across Feredir’s face. “I would be honored to accept this position, my lord. This is what I have worked for since first becoming a soldier and to know that you are allowing me this opportunity is . . . well it is . . .” Feredir was at a loss for words.

“You are very deserving of this, Feredir,” Legolas continued. “You have all the right qualities and you represent Eryn Lasgalen with valor.”

“Thank you, Lord Legolas.” Feredir turned his attention to Glandur, who was now standing next to Legolas. “When shall I report for my new duties, Commander?”

“We will start making the transfer within the week,” Glandur answered. “At that time, we’ll discuss living arrangements as well.”

“Living arrangements?” Feredir asked.

“Of course. You will need to live close to the Captain’s quarter. There are several homes available in the eastern district, which I believe you and Terrwyn will find quite agreeable.” Glandur noticed Feredir’s concern. “Is there a problem?”

“No Commander, it’s . . . well, I have arranged for a talan to be built in the new section and it is almost complete. It is . . . it was supposed to be a surprise for Terrwyn.” Feredir said disappointedly.

“I’m sorry, Feredir, but the Captain must live close to his base. You will be called upon quite regularly.”

Feredir looked Glandur squarely in the eye. “My duty is to Ithilien. Perhaps I will find someone else to take over the talan.”

“I think you should keep it for now. Even a Captain needs a reprieve and the new tree colony will be a good place for you and Terrwyn to go and relax during those times,” Legolas added.

“Thank you, my lord. I believe I will do that.”

“You are free to go,” Glandur said. “But first, who else knows something about a goblin?”

“Horphen, sir,” Feredir answered, hoping Glandur would not want details.

“Horphen, of course. You two are inseparable when it comes to mischief. I suggest you make no mention of this to anyone else and all will be forgotten.”

“Yes, Commander,” Feredir answered before he left Legolas’ office.

After Feredir was gone, Glandur looked to Legolas and shook his head. “Some things will never change.”

Legolas laughed. “Let’s hope not. At least we are rid of one more goblin.”

“Ai,” Glandur sighed.

* * *

Terrwyn was at the healing house finishing with her preparations and refilling the empty medicine jars. Limil was off visiting friends and Curuven had gone to place an order at the apothecary, leaving Terrwyn in charge. It was a beautiful day and she thought she’d do a little gardening since there were no patients to tend. The last of the summer blooms were spent and needed to be weeded out from the early fall plants. She loved working in the garden out back. It was private and quiet, a very peaceful place. A path ran along behind the healing house, which was in a row with other houses and businesses. Every so often, someone would walk by and it was fun to eavesdrop on their conversation as they passed. Terrwyn went undetected, safely hidden behind the tall hedges that surrounded the back yard. If she stood on her tiptoes, she could just see above the tall leafy green wall, as she was doing now.

Today, Feredir would return home from his duty at the border. She would never admit it to him, but she counted the seconds that ticked by as she waited for him. Sometimes Terrwyn felt like a love sick maid as her heart raced thinking he would arrive any moment. It was not the easiest thing to be a wife of a border guard, but she never complained. Feredir had a job to do and she would never get in the way of that. She had her own work to tend to, for that matter and told herself to stop looking for her elf and get to it. Just as she was about to lower her heels back to the soft grass, someone spoke into her ear.

“Spying are we?”

Terrwyn gasped and spun around. “Feredir, you scared me. I didn’t hear you.” Her adrenaline raced making her breathing rapid from the shock.

Feredir laughed, always taking pleasure in sneaking up on her. She may have elvish blood in her veins, but unlike the elves, she surprised easily. “I’m sorry, Naru,” he chortled. Walking up to the hedges, Feredir peeked over the top. Terrwyn noticed that he didn’t need to stand on his toes as she did. “So, who were you looking for?” he teased.

Terrwyn straightened her shirt and picked off a few leaves that had stuck in the material. “I wasn’t looking for anyone. I thought I heard someone was all.”

“So you weren’t looking for your husband who has been gone for a long time and wondering why he hasn’t returned yet?”

“Is that what you think I do while you’re away?” she asked accusingly with narrowed eyes. Feredir only smiled and covered his mouth as he tried to contain another laugh. “Where were you anyways? I know your battalion returned early this morning and I was beginning to wonder.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. He still had that smug smile upon his face. “And what in Mordor is so funny.”

“Can’t the Captain of the Ithilien Guard be in good humor?”

Terrwyn closed her eyes and shook her head with confusion. “What does Glandur have to do with any of this?”

Feredir captured her by the waist and pulled her close, looking deep into her bright green eyes. “I wasn’t talking about Glandur.”

Terrwyn looked from one silver iris to the other as what he was saying started to make sense. “You?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Glandur has made you Captain of--.” A smile slowly spread upon her lips. “You are Captain.”

“Ah, now she understands,” he jested.

Terrwyn clasped her arms around his neck. “Oh Feredir. I . . . I just can’t believe it, a promotion and Captain,” she shrieked. “This is so wonderful. I’m just so happy and so proud of you.”

“I was surprised to find out too, Naru. It was completely unexpected.”

“And what of Glandur? Why has he--?” She stopped and gasped. “Oh no, don’t tell me he and Antien have decided to sail.” Her voice was tinged with worry.

“No not at all. Actually, Lord Legolas has made Glandur Commander and I was chosen to fill his position.”

Terrwyn hugged him again, burying her face in his shoulder. “There couldn’t be better news.” She stood back and looked at Feredir. “What does this mean though? Will you be away more?”

“It means no more tours at the border. It means that I will be home every night because we will live close to the Captain’s quarter.” He waited for her response.

“A home? We will have a home of our own?” she said excitedly.

“Yes, a home, a place to call our own for you to do with as you please,” he answered. “You’ll have to walk to the healing house now, instead of just a quick flight of stairs.”

“I don’t care about that,” she laughed. “Curuven and Limil’s home was only temporary.” She looked up to the set of second story windows with the yellow curtains. “Though I will miss living here a bit. This was the first place where I felt safe in Ithilien and where we met and . . .” She ran her finger along the white tree of his uniform. “And where we first made love,” she smiled shyly.

Feredir cupped her face in his hands and kissed her slowly, then looked to her eyes. “Well, we will just have to start a list of firsts in our new home.”

“So when do we move and when shall we look for our new home?” she asked.

“Well, we can start within the week, but . . .” He stopped and tucked a stray red hair behind her ear. “There is a house that I have always seen on my way to the Captain’s building. I don’t know what it is about the place that grabs my attention, but I always thought that it would be a perfect place to live. And after I was given the good news, I took it upon myself to see if it was available and it is. I took the money I was saving and offered it to the landowner. He agreed upon the price and it is ours now.”

“You bought a home without even letting me see it first?” she said disappointedly.

“I know you, Naru and I know you will love this place. It is not too much that we will not be able to take care of it with our busy schedules. There is a living area and a kitchen, a porch out front and a spacious yard out back. There is room for gardens of your liking. Upstairs is a sitting room, a bathing room and two bedrooms. It is the perfect place to start our lives and to maybe one day start a family.” He finished explaining the house to her, hoping she was not mad at him.

Terrwyn smiled and kissed his cheek. “You do know me, Feredir and it sounds just lovely. I trust you and your judgment.” She nuzzled against his chest and whispered. “And I can hardly wait to make that life with you.”

“We could go upstairs and start on part of that life now if you want,” Feredir grinned against her ear as his hand covered her abdomen.

“Hmm, a tempting offer, Captain, but let’s wait until everything is official,” she whispered against his lips.

“Can we still go upstairs at least?” he begged.

“You never have to ask,” she uttered and took his hand, leading Feredir into the house and up the stairs to their bedroom.


	72. Welcome Home

Chapter 72 - Welcome Home

 

“Here we are,” Feredir said as he and Terrwyn reached the edge of the forest that housed the new elf colony.

Terrwyn looked out at the tall trees. “Have they grown taller or am I just imagining things?”

“They have sprouted new branches, filling in the empty space,” he answered as he took her hand and led her closer to the trees. They stopped just before entering the thick brush that grew at the outer edges. “Are you sure you are not disappointed?”

Terrwyn touched the side of his face and smiled warmly. “Of course not. We have no choice but to live in the city for now. Still, we will be able to visit from time to time.”

Feredir had recently told Terrwyn about the talan home that he had finished. He had said it was meant to be a surprise and they would have lived there, but that was before Glandur promoted him to Captain. It had been his dream to bring Terrwyn here once the talan was complete and tell her that this was their new home. When he told her he was going to give it to another elf family, Terrwyn rejected the notion, saying that this was special to him and that they would at least get to visit from time to time. He laughed and said that was exactly what Glandur told him.

“Great minds we have, Glandur and me,” she answered.

Now that the talan was complete, she insisted that they make their first visit before Feredir’s job as Captain became too demanding. It undoubtedly would during the transition and his first few months as a new officer.

They broke through the underbrush and came upon the spiraling staircase at the base of the tree. Terrwyn looked up in amazement. “Last time I was here, this ended at that first platform. Now I can see that it goes all the way up to . . . Is that the talan way up there?”

“It is. Come Naru, it’s a bit of a climb.” Feredir led her to the stairs and they climbed, stopping at the occasional platform to look out across the forest. “I hadn’t realized how many new talans have been built in this section. It looks like a real elvish community.”

Terrwyn giggled. “Of course it is. Who else would live so dangerously high above the ground?” Terrwyn noticed that there were walkways jetting off from some of the higher platforms. These led to other sections of the tree city. The elves could walk to other talans or meeting places without ever having to touch the ground. It was just like a village with homes and large halls for meetings or celebrations. One building housed the kitchens for such events. Another, Feredir informed her, was a library filled with books sent from Rivendell. Queen Arwen decided to donate part of her father’s collection and fill the new library with a wealth of knowledge, from elvish lore to medicine. There were even classrooms where the young elflings would go and learn about their heritage.

The buildings looked very similar, but each one had its own personality. They were all round with the trunk of the massive tree as their center. Great brackets supported the bottom of the buildings, anchoring them to the tree. Wooden walkways allowed the residents to walk completely around their house and they could look out over the forest from any angle. Some houses were only one story, while others had a second floor. The windows were different for each home also. Some were round while others were square or rounded only on the top. The homes with a second story had dormers jetting out, each with a window matching that of the others. The shingled roofs were slanted so that rainwater would run down to a series of narrow troughs. From there, the water would run through downspouts and collect in barrels. Trying to transport water from the ground to the talans would be a difficult task. Ithilien was fairly wet during certain times of the year and this would help to supply water for the elves.

Everything was well thought out for this city in the trees. Terrwyn could understand why Feredir was disappointed about abandoning his dream, but it was not to say they could not stay here on a reprieve. Then they could enjoy the elven city and get away from city life, if only for a short while.

Finally, they came to the newly built talan. It still smelled of fresh sawn lumber. Feredir led her around the walkway that surrounded the house, pointing out all the small features and elvish design that Terrwyn loved. And then they came to the front door. The edges were straight while the top was rounded. A beautiful stained glass design decorated it, with lead outlining the different pieces of glass.

“It’s beautiful,” Terrwyn sighed as she touched the shapes.

Feredir opened the door and escorted her inside to a small lobby. To the right was a living area with a couch in the middle, shelves on the walls, a small fireplace on the far wall, two chairs on either side and a deerskin rug on the wooden floor. To the left was an office, partitioned off by a wall of thin material giving just enough privacy but allowing light to filter through. Past the office was a small kitchen with a wood stove and a basin with a pump. There was a rain barrel just outside where the water could be pumped from. Cupboards and a round table with four chairs finished off the open kitchen, connecting it with the rest of the front half of the house. In the very middle, of course, was the trunk of the tree and a hallway with three separate doors that circled around. Through the first door was a small bedroom, empty for the time being, but room for a bed, a wardrobe and a small table or two. The second door led to a bathing room with a large tub in the middle. A comfortable chaise sat at one end and a closet for towels and shelves for soaps and oils was at the other end. Behind the third door was a rather large bedroom, taking up most of the back half of the talan. This room had a large bed with posts running up and into the ceiling as if it were part of the tree. It was made up with soft white sheets and a beautiful thick yellow satiny blanket on top. Terrwyn looked to the windows and noticed the curtains matching in the same shade of yellow. The room was very bright and cheerful, just the kind of room she had always dreamed of. A small desk, washbasin, wardrobe and a few small accent tables finished off the luxurious room.

Terrwyn couldn’t wait and threw herself down on the comfortably soft bed. She waved her arms up and down as she did as a child making shapes in the snow. The coolness of the material gave her goose bumps. Then she sat up and looked at Feredir, who was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame and watching her with a contented smile. “You really meant for us to live here didn’t you,” she asked. “It is fully decorated, not just an empty shell.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise, but with the promotion and all . . . well, it will just have to wait until we get time to ourselves and away from our busy city lives.”

Terrwyn could hear his disappointment. “We can still live here if you want. We don’t have to do anything we don’t want to do. I don’t have to work for Master Curuven. I’m sure my talents could be used here in the tree city. And you have not officially been made Captain yet. The ceremony is not until next week.”

Feredir laughed. “You are not good at lying, are you? I know how much you enjoy working for Curuven, and being Captain is something I never thought possible for me. It was meant to be, Terrwyn. City life has been good to us. We cannot turn our backs on it now.”

“It was only a thought. I just want you to know that whatever you decide I will support you and stand by your side.” She got up from the bed and strolled over to Feredir. “We will make this our retreat and hide away from the world whenever we can.”

Feredir took her by the waist. “I think I like that idea more every time I think about it.”

Terrwyn pulled Feredir by his hand and led him to the bed. “And of course, you know we must do something to make this place seem like it is truly ours.” She turned him around so his back was to the end of the bed and then leaned into him as if to kiss him. Instead, she pushed his chest, making Feredir fall backwards, leaping upon him with a knee on each side of his hips. Terrwyn bent forward, gazing deep into his silver depths. “I noticed there are two bedrooms. You have planned quite far into our future haven’t you?” She kissed him, lips gliding over each other while tongues caressed exotically.

“There is plenty of time to think about little elflings running around. We do not need to be in a rush, but I know it will happen someday,” he answered.

“I don’t mind thinking about it at all. You will make a wonderful father, Feredir. You have already made an extraordinary husband.” As she spoke, Feredir’s hands slid beneath her shirt, lifting it over her head and tossing it to the side. He sat up and devoured her breasts as she straddled his hips. Terrwyn’s hands slipped down to his belt then the laces of his leggings. Soon they were both unclothed and Feredir flipped her onto her back, covering her with his strapping body. Their kisses were demanding and their bodies were alive with the feel of flesh upon flesh. He pushed into her body, making her moan most delightfully. They made love beneath the roof of their elvish talan, filling the house with sounds of ecstasy until they were both sated and breathless. Needless to say, Feredir and Terrwyn never made it back to the city that day as they explored all of the areas of their home in the trees.

* * *

Days passed and Feredir was officially brought in as the new Captain of the Ithilien Guard with a proper celebration and a glorious feast. Glandur’s promotion to Commander was also celebrated that day. The people of the city were glad to see the changes and knew that Ithilien was growing rapidly thanks to the elves. Unfortunately, not all were pleased with the new arrangements. A small group of men band together to protest against the elves having so much authority in what they thought should have been a human community. This group stirred up trouble as they continuously tried to recruit others to join their cause, but Feredir did his best to keep order. Most of the city had no disagreement with the elves and knew that more sailed every year. They enjoyed this time, knowing that one day there would be no more elves to share their lives in Ithilien.

Feredir and Terrwyn moved into their house next to the Captain quarters. They came to love their little cottage, but visited their talan whenever they could. Terrwyn continued working for Master Curuven and took over more responsibilities all the time. The Master healer and his wife found more time to enjoy each other’s company with Terrwyn keeping watch over the healing house. She had come quite far in her training thanks to Master Remlas. Her reputation grew also and she found certain patients asking for her attention whenever they felt ill. Curuven took note of this. Terrwyn was a true healer and he had every confidence in her.

* * * 

Fall was settling in now. The days grew cooler and the leaves were turning to their brilliant orange, red and yellow luster. Terrwyn was in her back yard preparing her garden for the winter months. The skies clouded over recently, bringing with it a cold wind. This was nature’s way of tapping her on the shoulder and telling her to get to work. There was a lot to do, not only with her own garden, but also with the herb garden at the healing house. First, her own though, since it was smaller and had not the important healing plants like that of Master Curuven’s. It was best to get this one out of the way first so she could   
concentrate on the larger one next.

Today, however, the cold wind had traveled back to the north and the sun shone brightly, making it pleasant to be outside. She was just finishing with the last row of flowers when a familiar voice called out to her. “Terrwyn, my lovely, you have been on hands and knees all week. How about you join me for a walk?”

Terrwyn looked over her shoulder to see her favorite elf smiling and sitting on the lowest branch of an oak that grew in the yard. She stood and dusted her leggings, smiling at him. “Antien, it is always good to see you, but I have so much work to do. I don’t have time to play.”

“Nonsense,” he complained. Then he licked his finger and held it in the air, looking around as if searching for something. “I say there is plenty of time before even the first frost sets in. One afternoon will not make a difference. Come on now. Just a walk and then you can return to your precious garden.”

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him with a raised eyebrow. “The last time you said just a short walk, we were gone all day and did not return until sundown. Feredir was not so pleased when he came home and I was not here. It was only because I was with you that he did not take me over his knee and spank me,” she jested.

Antien regarded her with an impish grin. “And if he had?”

“Then I would have you to thank,” she laughed.

“Come on then. If you like, I’ll send word to Feredir and tell him what we are doing. I don’t want the Captain of the Guard mad at me now do I?”

“Very well, a quick walk and then I must get home.”

Antien clapped his hands and jumped gracefully to the ground. “Excellent! Now, I know a place that I’m sure you have not gone to before. It’s deep in the old section of the city, where the trees grow wild.”

“How exciting!” she sang and the two were off on their exploration.

They walked quite a distance, through the center of town where they stopped for a brief moment. Terrwyn was famished and craving sweet rolls. Antien joined her for the treat and soon they were on their way again. They went through the manicured gardens and past the pine forest, across a small glade and into another copse of trees. The undergrowth became thick with wild blueberry bushes, well spent of their sweet fruit and ready for their winter’s nap. Travel became slower as they got deeper into the old forest. Antien walked a little ahead of Terrwyn, clearing a path for her through the thick weeds. The ground was littered with decaying branches and while watching where she stepped, Terrwyn hadn’t notice that Antien stopped. She bumped into him, pushing him forward unexpectedly. They both stumbled and fell, laughing uncontrollably as they sat on the ground. Antien’s laughter died away, but he kept watching her, listening to the pure joy of her voice. Her green eyes sparkled with a new vibrancy that he had not seen before.

He stood up and dusted himself off, then offered her his hand helping her to her feet. When he turned, Terrwyn picked some dried leaves from his thick auburn hair. “Why did you stop so sudden, Antien? Next time, give a girl some warning.”

“I stopped because we are here,” he said with that mystical voice she had heard as a child.

“Where is here?”

“Do you not see it?” His voice turned to a whisper.

Terrwyn noticed the direction he was looking up and she followed his sight. They had fallen into a small opening in between the thick growing trees. The sun shone down, illuminating the patch of tall grass that spread across the clearing. The trees on the other side were bright with their autumn colors, but there was nothing different from the ones that grew in the city.

“Look closer, dear Terrwyn,” Antien hinted. “There.” He pointed across to one of the trees.

Terrwyn looked closer and now she saw what he was speaking of. They were not leaves as she had originally thought, for they moved with a life of their own. Millions upon millions of butterflies the color of goldenrod covered the tree. Terrwyn’s mouth hung agape as she watched them rapidly beat their wings, all fighting for a spot on the branches. There were so many that they piled on top of each other.

“I have never seen anything like this, Antien. How did you know about it?”

“Every fall they gather here in the old forest. When they are ready, they all leave together and fly south just like the birds. They will lay their eggs and some will live long enough to return here in the spring. Their offspring will take the same path back here also. I don’t know how they do it, but they always find their way back.” Antien turned back to Terrwyn. “Just like you.”

She blinked and lowered her sight back to Antien, smiling as she did. “I guess the journey is complete now, isn’t it? I am home.”

“You have truly emerged and spread your lovely wings,” he answered.

Suddenly, a breeze swept through the clearing and the butterflies left their clusters. They looked like leaves falling, but they flew up and out instead of floating to the ground. The small glade filled with butterflies in flight, swirling and lifting on the breeze. The blue sky above disappeared and turned gold.

Antien chortled and lifted his arms above his head. Terrwyn did the same and butterflies landed on their hands and fingers, one last reprieve before their long journey south.

“Better them than me this time,” Terrwyn jested.

Soon all of the butterflies were gone. The sky opened back up and the sun washed over the clearing once more. The tree that they had been in was dead and barren, no leaves, no new growth. One could not have known with all the colorful insects covering it. “For one brief moment, the tree lived yet again. What a wonderful gift,” Terrwyn commented.

“I hadn’t thought of it that way before, but you are right. What a lovely thing.” Antien held his arm out and Terrwyn took it. “We had better get back before it gets late.”

Terrwyn reached up and kissed his soft cheek, then gazed into his radiant hazel eyes. “Thank you for bringing me here, Antien. What a truly amazing thing to witness.”

* * *

Back home now, Terrwyn stood at the washbasin in her kitchen and looked out of the window. From here, she could gaze upon her garden and the oak tree in the backyard. A short hedge grew along the edge and beyond that, she could just see part of the stone path that led to the Captain’s building. Sometimes she would stand there and watch Feredir walk up the path at the end of the day, his long black hair streaming behind him in the breeze, tall and magnificent. And she would wonder how she ever got so lucky to have captured his love and his heart.

Attached to the basin was a pump, another clever invention of the dwarves that allowed water to be pumped into the kitchen rather than having to fetch it from a well or a stream. Terrwyn pulled and pushed the handle a few times and water poured from the pipe, filling the basin. She picked up some potatoes that she had bought at the market earlier and washed the dirt from them.

Firm arms snaked around her waist as his warm body pushed against her back. “So, you were off gallivanting with Antien again today.” He brushed the hair from her neck. “To the old forest, I hear.”

Terrwyn smiled as his eager lips kissed the soft skin of her neck. “We witnessed a butterfly migration today. It was truly magical.”

Feredir bit lightly on the back of her ear. “I’m not so sure I like the thought of you walking so far. There have been more disturbances amongst some of the citizens. I don’t understand their anger with the elves, but it seems to be escalating lately and I don’t want you anywhere near them. Besides, are you sure you are not overexerting yourself in your condition?” Feredir’s hand went to her belly, making small circles that tickled her.

Terrwyn giggled. “Feredir, it is only the beginning stages. And besides, I am pregnant not crippled.”

Feredir nibbled on her shoulder. “And when will we make this known to our friends and family?”

“Soon, my love, but for now I like it being only us who knows our little secret.” As she spoke, his kisses became more demanding and his hands went in search of sweeter treasure. Terrwyn bumped him away with her behind. “Now, you must behave yourself or there will be no dinner tonight.”

Reluctantly, Feredir released her. “I will leave you alone . . . for now.” He groaned into her ear and started to leave the kitchen when he remembered something. “Oh, a package came for you today, from Minas Tirith. He picked up the small cloth wrapped bundle from a shelf and handed it to her.

“Who is it from?” she asked as she untied the twine.

“I’m not sure. There was no name given and the messenger did not know.”

Terrwyn laid it on the table and carefully unfolded the cloth, revealing three things that she had all but forgotten about. First was the torn page from the child’s book with the picture of the dusty rose. Still scribbled on the bottom were the words Taldred had written, More beautiful than any flower, she is. Suddenly the memories of her life in Edoras came flooding back.

Next, she lifted up a leather cord with a silver medallion hanging from it. “The symbol of Rohan, I had forgotten about this,” she said aloud as she observed the etching of a horse rearing on its hind legs, its mane flowing out behind it.

Last, she unwrapped a dagger, silver with a white handle and elvish runes upon the blade. “This was Antien’s gift to Hathmund when we met him as children. I found it after he disappeared and kept it with me until . . .” It finally dawned on her who the package was from. “Rosloch,” she uttered.

“Who?” Feredir asked curiously.

“Someone from my past, someone I had known in Minas Tirith. He must have kept these things for me after I was . . . after I was arrested.”

“You mean that guard that brought you to Ithilien, the Gondorian that you kissed at the gate?” queried Feredir, a hint of jealousy in his tone.

“How would you know about that?” she said accusingly.

“It was the first time I saw you and the moment I learned that I would be your guard.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it passionately. “And the moment that changed my life.” Their eyes connected as their souls found each other. Then, just as quickly as it started, Feredir ended it by releasing her and looking to the pot on the stove. “Now I’ll let you get back to cooking. I’m beyond famished and believe I could eat a horse,” he laughed.

“Speaking of which, did you check in on Brannoss today? I want to make sure the stable hands are riding him as often as they can. You know how restless he gets,” she reminded him.

“Since you were off playing with Antien, I took it upon myself to check and Brannoss is just fine,” Feredir teased as he left the kitchen. 

Terrwyn finished peeling and dicing the potatoes and dropped them into the pot of stew. When she was done, she gathered her apron in her hands, drying them, and felt her little trinket in her pocket. She reached in and pulled out the wooden treasure, turning it over in her hand and looking at it closely. “We have been through much, you and I, but through it all we have survived. I guess there is no reason to keep you hidden away any longer.” Then she placed her hand on her abdomen. “And soon everyone will know about you too.” She smiled and sighed contentedly, sitting the trinket on the windowsill and giving it a permanent place. It felt odd not having the little wood figure close to her, hidden inside her skirts, but there was also a new sense of stability knowing that she no longer needed to carry it hidden away. She stroked the intricately carved wing, remembering that day at the Hornburg, the lovely voice that drew her attention and the handsome elf she met who was singing the song and who gave her the tiny gift. She had come so far and found peace. Terrwyn smiled and spoke to the little wooden butterfly. “Welcome home.” Then she looked down and rubbed her belly, a tear of joy gathering in the corner of her eye. “Welcome home, little one.”

 

The End . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Reviews are always welcome.


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